


No Rest for the Wicked

by totemwolfie



Series: Demons of Ironwood [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Angels, Blood and Gore, Demon possession, Demons, Fallen Angel, Fantasy World, Furies, Gay Sex, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Half-breeds, Horror, M/M, Monsters, Mythology - Freeform, Nightmares, Norse Mythology - Freeform, Pegasus - Freeform, Possession, Soulmates, Valkyrie - Freeform, Witches, artist, fated mates, fey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-07-01 07:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 83,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15769071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totemwolfie/pseuds/totemwolfie
Summary: Elijah is terrorized by nightmares every night and the feeling that he is being followed.  When he catches the eye of the dangerous demon Amon, he has to wonder, will the man be his salvation or damnation?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've been itching to write about these two for years. I apologize for these few couple chapters. Starting a new story is always hard for me. But I hope you'll give it a chance. Right now I have no schedule for updates. Tags will most certainly be updated with time. Thanks for reading! xoxo

The alpha demon Amon stood over the bodies of the two men who had summoned him from fifteen-hundred years of isolation and banishment. As a sincere thank-you, he had made their deaths quick and painless. 

The demon whipped his tail and looked around the small room. He was in some sort of inn, there was a bed and a door to a bathroom and a table in the corner but no chairs. He’d stood in the bathroom for twenty minutes, marveling over modern plumbing and took advantage of the shower. Then he had stood at the window, watching as people went about their business. It was close to midnight and yet this inn was hopping with activity. He could see a tavern across the road and it was filled with loud patrons and louder music. He watched people move around in large, steel carriages that required no horse nor coachman.

“Fascinating,” he purred. His long, hairless tail wrapped around his leg and he tilted his head. The clothing was defiantly different from what he was used to. He turned to the two men he had killed. Well, they didn’t need their clothing anymore.

He discarded his old, dirty robes on the floor and dressed. Neither man was as big as himself, so the pants were a little tight and he couldn’t manage to button flannel shirt, but the other man’s t-shirt fit over his chest, albeit very tight. Oh well, it was a good look for him. He took a moment in the bathroom to brush out his long mane of black and blue hair before pulling it back into a tight ponytail. It took some maneuvering before he wrapped his tail around his waist and hid it under the layers of clothing.

He stared at his reflection. In his natural state his skin was grey and he had two black horns that curved back over his head. He tilted his head and considered his options. Going out undisguised in the mortal world was how he was banished to begin with. He closed his eyes, summoning magic long buried, and cast a glamor over himself.

After taking the men’s money, watch, and jewelry, he headed out of the room. The hallway smelled terrible, like stale smoke, bad ale, and piss. He stomped through the halls, listening at doors, pausing when people passed him, staring at him with wide eyes and gaping mouths. He growled at one couple and then continued until he found the stairs. He headed down onto the street and stopped.

The world around him was so different. He felt like he’d been reborn. This was his second chance in the world.  
And there were so many people to kill.


	2. Endless Knot

It was the thunder after the lightning that woke Elijah from the nightmare. He laid in bed, listening to rain as it hit the window and the wind howled. Still sluggish with sleep and reeling from the nightmare, he stood and shuffled out of his bedroom to the small bathroom just around the corner. After relieving his bladder he walked down the short hall to the kitchen. He filled a glass with water and checked the time.

Just past three. He turned, leaning on the sink and watched the rain as it hit the window. He couldn’t even see the buildings across the street or the lights from the city. The window rattled as thunder rolled again. Lightning flashed and a face looked at Elijah from the other side of the glass. With a yell he jumped back, dropping the glass onto the floor and spilling water everywhere.

“The fuck…” he panted, hand against his chest. He slowly stepped forward, squinting. Obviously there was nothing outside his window. It was a five story drop onto the street below. Grabbing a dish towel he cleaned up the water, left the glass in the sink, and went back to his bedroom. He closed the door behind him.

He rubbed his eyes sleepily and pushed his hand through his curly, black hair. Back in the bedroom he collapsed onto the bed and burrowed under the blankets. It was August, but he had spent the money earned from his last commission on a window air-conditioner, which was humming from the window, blasting the bedroom in cold air. If sleeping in a cool bedroom and under the blankets meant a slightly higher electric bill, then Elijah would pay it.

He closed his eyes and saw that face from the window looming over him. He sighed and rolled over, pressing his face into the pillows. There had been no face, he was just seeing things. Outside thunder rumbled and something scraped against the window. Elijah ignored it, rolling over again and pulling the pillow over his head.

Morning came too quick and it was announced by the alarm screaming on Elijah’s phone. He sat up with a gasp, blankets flying off, arms flailing, until he turned to the phone vibrating across his nightstand. He grabbed it with a growl and quickly dismissed the alarm and then checked the volume on his phone. He was a light sleeper, he didn’t need the volume turned up all the way.

After turning the volume back to normal he swung his legs over the side of the bed and dropped his head into his hands. It was six-in-the-morning and there was no arguing against it. He got up and headed into the kitchen to press ‘start’ on the coffee maker. Then he shuffled back into the bathroom to shower.

As usual his hair was a disaster. _Who invented curls, honestly._ He dried off, did what he could with his hair, and went to find something to wear. There wasn’t a lot to choose from, and it wasn’t like he was going out to meet people. He grabbed faded blue jeans and a soft blue t-shirt that had a tree on the front. By now the smell of coffee had filled the small apartment and it was calling his name and he went to pour himself a cup.

Elijah would have preferred to sleep in and not be up so early, but if he did, then he wouldn’t have any time to paint, and that was where most of the income came from. He made himself a simple breakfast, toast with a slathering of homemade blueberry jam that he had bought at the farmer’s market, and then packed his work clothes and phone charger in his backpack and headed out the door.

There was heavy cloud cover that morning and so everything was cast in shadows and the streets still wet from the night’s rain. After last night’s weather Elijah would have hoped to have some cooler weather, but instead found that the air was still stifling and muggy. He walked down the street to his old banged up Jeep Wrangler, which was parked at the curb because the building he lived in didn’t have its own parking lot. 

With the radio playing Elijah drove to The Brick, an art gallery owned by a family friend who had offered to rent out a portion of the unused attic to him. Elijah’s apartment was too small to keep all his supplies and it was nice to have a private, quiet place to work and not worry about getting paint on the floor. Not to mention the room had floor to ceiling windows and the view of the river and city was incredible.

He parked behind the building in the alley and used his key to let himself into the back door. There were two options from here: a old door that lead up a narrow staircase or a larger door with a high tech lock and alarm system that lead to the backroom of the gallery. Elijah’s key was for the attic, so he unlocked it and headed upstairs. The door at the top of the stairs was closed and didn’t require a key.

The gallery ran on afternoon hours and he hadn’t seen the owner’s car outside. He dropped his bag in a chair and started to gather his supplies. In the corner on a tall easel sat a large canvas. Painted across the canvas was a half finished tree looming over a bleak landscape while being struck by a bolt of white lightning. Before he began, Elijah adjusted the lighting and turned on his favorite playlist. Since no one else was around he didn’t bother with headphones.

The sound of guitars, gnarled voices, bagpipes and fiddled filled the small area. He’d been on a folk metal kick for the last year and had compiled a large playlist of his favorite songs. Most of them weren’t in English, but even the ones that were were difficult to understand. There was a lot of guttural voices and even more screaming.

Elijah couldn’t explain why, but he fucking loved every note.

He was almost three hours into painting when he heard the door behind him close. He turned in surprise, expecting to see Reuben, the gallery owner, but found no one there.

He frowned and, settling down his pallet and brush, went and opened the door. 

No one.

The doors locked behind him, and no one else had a key. He went down the stairs and was opening the door at the bottom just as the outside door swung open and a large man stepped in.

Both men jumped in surprise. Elijah leaned back against the door, snickering, while looking up at Reuben. The six-foot-five, bald headed black man had his hand over his heart and was leaning back against the door. 

Elijah couldn’t help but laugh. “Did I scare you?”

“Well, I’m awake now,” the large man grunted. In his hand was a travel mug and over his arm a briefcase. He tilted his head and reached out, pulling a flake of blue paint out of Elijah’s curly hair. “You’re here early.”

“I woke up wanting to paint,” he explained.

“Something good?” He asked with a smile. He unlocked the security door and Elijah followed him inside. They went into the office.

“It depends on what is good,” he hummed.

“Everything you do is good, Elly.”

He leaned back, arms loosely crossed. “Maybe. You’re here early. What’s up?”

“A new client,” he explained as he moved around the office. “Morning was the only time she was available.”

He nodded. “I’ll let you go then. See you later.”

“I want to see that painting when you’re done,” the man called after him as Elijah left the office and returned to his painting in the attic.

But when he stood in front of the painting, he felt no desire to continue. He rubbed his head and glanced out the window. There was no face in the glass. There was no one lurking in the stairway. Yet why did he feel like someone was there?

Shaking his head, Elijah started to clean up. 

It was bright and sunny when he left. The morning heat was just setting in and had burned away all the cloud cover. Sitting in his vehicle he tried to decide what to do for lunch. Drive home? Go out to eat? Going home and having cereal or ramen would be the smart choice. Cheaper. He turned his attention to his phone when it dinged.

**Frankie (10:40am) Wanna get lunch?**

The only downside to dining with Frankie was she always wanted to go someplace nice, or to quote her “not crappy fast food.” Elijah checked his wallet and replied,

**Elijah (10:42am) I’m on a budget.**

**Frankie (10:43am) You’re so sad. How about Annie’s Diner?**

He hummed. Annie’s Diner was the equivalent to Denny’s but locally owned and homemade. He agreed and pulled out of the alleyway and onto the main road. 

The drive was short and he parked next to Frankie’s yellow Lexus and headed inside. The dinner smelled like hamburgers and apple pie and had a 1950’s theme. They had recently undergone a remodel with a very dramatic paint theme: magenta and turquoise with black and white tile flooring. He stopped in the doorway, momentarily distracted by a the bright colors and neon lights over the counter, when he heard someone calling his name.

“Elly! Over here.”

He turned and saw a young woman, in her late twenties, leaning out from a booth to catch his attention. Her skin was deep brown, her hair black and kinky and being held back by a colorful bandana. She waved before disappearing back into the booth. He sat down across from her a moment later.

“Hey Frankie,” he said with a grin. “You off work today?” He asked after looking at her casual attire. 

“I asked the boss if I could have the day off,” she chirped.

“You are the boss.”

“Which is why I said yes,” she said with a grin. Her nose wrinkled and her eyes crinkled when she smiled like that, and it was something Elijah loved about her, and the reason why she was his favorite live model to paint. “I see you’ve been busy this morning.”

Elijah frowned before he looked down at his hands. They were covered in dried paint. He swore. “Let me go and wash up,” he said. “BRB.”

“Nerd.”

He headed into the men’s restroom and went straight for the sink to wash the paint off his hands and lower arms. “Reuben is right, I really am a slob,” he murmured to himself. He checked his hair for anymore flecks of paint, saw that there was a smudge of blue on his elbow, and then went back out to the dining area. Frankie was reading through the menu and drinking a Coke, there was a iced tea sitting on Elijah’s side of the table.

“Mm, thanks,” he said as he took a drink and opened the menu. There was a separate “deals” menu and he flipped to it. He felt Frankie’s dark eyes on him and resisted looking up. “Sorry, I can’t afford lobster and steak, Miss Lawyer.”

She snorted into her soda. “They don’t have lobster here, genius.”

“Fine, shrimp.”

“I’m allergic, and I could die.”

“Not to mention they’re just giant sea bugs.”

Frankie chuckled. “So what are you painting?”

Elijah pulled his phone from his pocket and pulled up a picture he had taken before leaving. He slid it to her. “It’s a reoccurring dream I keep having. I thought maybe if I painted it, it would get out of my head.”

She hummed and nodded. “And did it?”

“No, not really,” he said as he put his phone away. “It just morphed into a new nightmare.”

Frankie tapped her chin with her finger before the waitress returned to take their orders. As they waited for the food, the conversation continued with Frankie asking, “What kind of nightmares? If I can ask.”

Elijah leaned back in his seat. “It’s complicated. There’s a face in the dark, lightning striking this tree, and all kinds of shadows in the sky. They don’t have wings, so they aren’t angels.”

“What do you think they are?” she asked.

…

There weren’t a lot places more grungy and violent than a Otherkin demon bar. But at least here Amon didn’t have to hide behind his human disguise. He dropped the glamour and unwound his tail from his waist and whipped it. The bar, in many ways, wasn’t that much different from one for humans. The real difference was simply that no one here was human, and that the walls and doorways were carved with magical wards to keep humans and harmful creatures out 

Amon took a quick glance around the room. There were a group of harpies at one table, howling with laughter and drinking something pink. At the bar was were two beta demons. The bartender was a massive berserker with an orange Mohawk, and sitting alone in a booth was what had to be a Valkyrie.

He frowned. The daughters of Freyja were not to be fucked with. Blessed with beauty beyond words, they were also killing machines, each daughter blessed with a different gift from their mother-goddess. He had once seen a Valkyrie who could move mountains with a flick of her wrist, and another that melted the skin off a mate who had angered her.

He steered clear.

When he approached the bar the two beta demons glanced his way. Both female. One was red-skinned with a crown of horns and the second a deep charcoal grey with folded wings. Both stared at him with a mixture of interest and caution.

“What’ll it be,” grumbled the berserker as he stomped over to the alpha demon.

“The strongest shit you have,” he answered. 

The bartender smirked. He filled a tall glass from the tap with a dark ale that has a bit of a golden shine. “Amon, right?”

His ear twitched. “Depends.”

The bartender grinned, showing rows of yellow, sharp teeth. He set the glass down in front of the demon. “I’d heard a rumor that you were in the city.”

Amon hummed as he took a long drink. The ale, laced with ambrosia, was bitter and strong. In the five years since his release from banishment he had been traveling the world and inadvertently creating a name for himself.

Turns out in this modern, tech-savvy world, word spread fast. He had sought out a couple foes and ripped off their heads. Next thing he knew people were whispering about him. It wasn’t all bad, it just meant people gave him a wide berth. Some more daring beta demons and other monsters tried to challenge him, and he was more than happy to comply. 

His lust for blood was nearly as insatiable as it was for sex.

“So, what brought you here?” the bartender prompted.

Amon was aware the demonesses were listening. He shrugged. “I caught a scent.”

“Prey or pleasure?”

“Don’t know yet,” he said. “I’m looking for both, though.” He glanced at the females next to him and looked them over. Oh, they were interested. He had a male last night, but he wouldn’t say no to a threesome.

There was a _whoosh_ of energy and the group looked back to the empty table. The Valkyrie was gone. “You don’t see one of them very often,” he commented.

The bartender nodded. “Minor turf war between them and the local Furie clan.”

“Fuck,” he barked, swallowing the rest of his drink. Valkyrie were bad enough, but Furies? They collected demon heads like humans collected sports memorabilia.

Other patrons entered the bar then and Amon was left alone with his thoughts. He was being honest when he said he had come into the city because he caught a scent, but it was more than that. It was like he was a fish following bait on a hook. Something had been trying to lure him to Ironwood City five years. He had tried to ignore it, had hunted his enemies and warmed his with bed with new and old lovers, but the pull to come here had never waned.

He snapped his tail. Whatever was here, whatever had been distracting him for years, he was going to find and end.


	3. Everything Remains as it Never Was

_Moreau’s_ was busier than usual. Elijah hustled between tables, taking orders, delivering food, stopping to answer questions and drop-off checks. It wasn’t unusual for the French restaurant to be busy, but this was ridiculous. On top of it he was forced to cover another waiter’s tables when he had to go pick his sick child up from the babysitter. Honestly, Elijah had no idea how he managed to keep everything straight without his head exploding.

The night was such a rush that he missed his dinner break and only escaped to the restroom when there was a lull.

The kitchen was hot and humid, due to the levels of humidity outside, which only made his black hair even curlier and a little frizzy. He huffed, staring at his reflection as he washed his hands. He was sweaty, his cheeks were blotchy, and he looked exhausted. But he had three hours to go and he needed to get back to it. So he splashed a little cold water on his face, straightened his apron and his tie, and headed back out.

When the night was over he was shot. His feet hurt and he had a migraine. Elijah sighed tiredly, saying goodnight to his coworkers before going out through the back door to the employee parking lot. It was still disgustingly humid out and even though there were clouds overhead, it didn’t look or smell like rain. He stepped away from the building and into heavy shadows. With a frown he craned his head up to the light pole, which was currently burned out. In fact, none of the lights were on. 

“That’s really weird,” he said to himself as he turned toward his car, only to freeze. Someone was leaning against it.

Elijah stood completely still, his hands clutching the straps of his backpack. There was a lot to see because of the shadows, but he could tell that there was definitely a man there. Was he wearing a long coat? Who wore a long coat in this weather? When he blinked the man was gone.

He frowned. Had that just been a trick or lack of light? Was he hallucinating? Elijah slowly approached the Jeep and looked around and beneath it. Just in front of the lot was a wooded area and he stared into the shadows. Branches creaked in the breeze and leaves whispered.

“No one is here,” he muttered to himself as he pulled the lanyard from his pocket with his keys. He quickly unlocked the door and jumped inside, throwing his backpack to the passenger seat and pulling the door shut with a slam. He locked it just as three other workers left the restaurant.

There were no more shadows and Elijah exhaled in relief.

“It’s because I didn’t get enough sleep,” he told himself as he headed home. That and because of the nightmares. They always left him rattled. And as they grew more intense, the less sleep he got, the more he imagined things.

He told himself that when he got home he was going straight to bed. His body certainly agreed, but his brain did not. He showered, had a bowl of ramen, then found himself at the desk in the living room, scribbling furiously in a sketchbook. Dark trees, his Jeep in the parking lot, and a man leaning against the bumper. Elijah leaned back and frowned. He had drawn the man in good detail for not actually seeing him. His head was down and he had no face. He wore a long coat and a fedora.

“I’m going nuts,” he yawned. He turned to the clock: 2:37am. “Fuck.”

…

Elijah woke suddenly to a tapping sound. He sat up with a start, blink tiredly and rubbing his eyes. He looked around, trying to pinpoint the sound. There was a fan buzzing in the corner, and the air-conditioning unit was humming in the window. He frowned, looking around the bedroom, before he turned to the window. The curtains were held open as to not obstruct the AC, and the shade was pulled closed.

“It’s a five floor drop,” he told himself. “No one can be out there.”

_Tap, tap, taptap._

He checked the time and groaned in irritation. It was just a little past four and he needed to get more sleep. But the tapping was starting to drive him crazy, so he stood from the bed and shuffled to the window. He reminded himself again that it was a straight down drop. No could possibly be out there. There would be no face, nothing. He pulled the shade open.

Nothing.

Elijah found he was more annoyed than relieved. He felt like someone was fucking with him, but who? It had to have been a bird, or maybe a bat. Maybe it was the AC unit. Maybe it was nothing and he was hearing things. No matter what, there was nothing there, and he dropped back onto the bed. He grabbed his pillow and curled up with it. He needed to get a little more sleep. He had another busy day ahead of him...

_“...Against the waves, with our swords in our hands—“_

He gasped and flailed, sitting up and tossing the blankets off himself and clutched his pillow to his chest. He turned, reaching clumsily for the phone as it continued to go off. When he saw Reuben’s face on the caller ID he blinked.

“Reuben?” He answered, hoping he didn’t sound as sleepy and slurred as he felt, “what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry for calling you this late, Elly,” the man’s deep voice said. “The silent alarm was triggered at the gallery.”

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and turned, sitting on the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor. “Shit. What happened?”

“I think… you should come down here.”

The man’s voice was suddenly soft and heavy, and Elijah felt his chest tighten. “O-okay… give me a few minutes.”

He haphazardly dressed, didn’t bother to tame his bed head, and ran out the door. The only traffic was very early commuters, so he reached The Brick in record time. Parked out front were three police cars and Reuben’s Mercedes.

Elijah parked and headed into the front door. At first he didn’t notice anything. The place wasn’t wrecked, all the art still in display. Even the glass displays with sculptures worth thousands of dollars were intact. He saw Reuben and the big man frowned sadly.

“What is it? The place looks…”

He stopped and forgot to take his next breath. _His paintings._ All of them. The ones Reuben had purchased for himself that he kept on display in the lounge area, and ones that he had had for sale, they were all destroyed. The canvas was slashed, the frames smashed. The ground was littered with pieces canvas and splinters of wood. Elijah took a step back and covered his mouth with his hand.

“Oh my god,” he choked. Tears burned in his eyes and his heart started to pound.

“I’m so sorry Elly,” the big man said gently. He dropped a large hand on Elijah’s narrow shoulder. “I’ll reimburse you for everything—“

“But why?” Elijah gasped. “Why only my work?”

“They… they broke into your studio upstairs, too.”

Elijah’s world started to spin. No one knew about that studio other than himself, Reuben, and anyone who had modeled for his paintings. He dropped his face in his hands and tried not to cry. The world around him was moving and he swayed on his feet. Thankfully Reuben was there to keep him upright, and he stood with his hands over his face and his breath coming in quick gasps. He choked.

“Elly, go wait in the office while I finish up with the police,” Reuben suggested, and he gave the young man a gentle push in the general direction.

He shuffled that way and collapsed in one of the large leather chairs across from Reuben’s desk. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He stared silently at the wall, eyes wet with tears but they didn’t fall. He stayed that way until Reuben returned, and he raised his head when he smelled coffee.

“Here,” Reuben said, offering him Starbucks cup. “Cinnamon Dolce Latte? Your favorite.”

Elijah wiped his eyes and dropped his legs to the floor. “Thanks,” he said quietly. He took a drink before shaking his head. “I’m sorry about all this.”

The large man sat down on the desk in front of him. “What? How is any of this your fault?”

“They destroyed my work. So this is obviously directed at me,” he said. “I just don’t know who I could have pissed off so much?” He tried to think of any unhappy buyers but none came to mind. He had very few friends, even fewer people who didn’t like him. Elijah was not outgoing and didn’t meet many people. He certainly didn’t know enough people to have an enemy.

Reuben sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was crooked from too many breaks during his years as a boxer. When he crossed his arms the muscles there bulged. “Elijah, I don’t know who did this, but we’ll find out.”

He took another long drink of the sugary concoction. “Can I go and get my paints? Or did they trash that, too?”

“Paints, brushes, and blank canvas are okay,” Reuben said, standing. “Come on, I’ll help you load it into your car.”

Upstairs the damage hit Elijah even harder. The painting he had been working on was aggressively slashed and torn apart, shreds of canvas lying on the floor. Even the easel had been smashed to pieces. He crouched and tried to pull the pieces back together, but it was hopeless. He frowned, dropping the shards of his easel to the ground. 

Who would do this? _Why_ do it?

After loading everything into the back of the Jeep Elijah turned to Reuben. “Thanks for helping me.”

The man stared at him. It was understandable that Elijah be pale and shaken, but he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. He said, softly, “Go home and get some rest.”

He groaned. “I can’t. I have work again today.”

“Elly, it’s five in the morning. Go get some sleep.”

Reuben had a way of scolding him that made him feel like he was a teenager living with his aunt again. He looked up at him. “I’ll try.”

“Okay,” he said with a smile. “I’ll call you if the police come up with anything.”

Elijah drove in silence, mulling over the motivation for whoever destroyed his art. He was exhausted and had a headache by the time he reached home. It took two trips to carry everything up to his apartment where he left it in the corner. Remembering his promise to Reuben he set the alarm on his phone and dropped into bed. But he didn’t sleep.

…

Beneath the leather coat and t-shirt Amin’s tail twitched from where it was wrapped around his body. He sat at the stop light, one foot on the road, listening to the gentle purr of the Harley beneath him. He had spent all night with the two demons, and now he was sated and tired and needed to sleep.

He revved the bike, waiting impatiently for the light to turn, when he caught a scent. He turned his head, staring through sunglasses at the building just off the main road. There was a single car parked in front of it. The sign over the door read “The Brick. Art Gallery and Dealership.”

Amon frowned. When the light turned he found himself cutting across traffic and headed to the building. He parked and slid off the bike and pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head.

In the mortal world, with glamor in place, Amon looked human. His skin was softly tanned, his eyes a deep brown, his hair black and ears round. Tattoos still covered his left bicep and pec. His hair was the same style, long locks of hair twisted into braids and pulled tight away from his face. It was a very “Viking” look he had been told. He didn’t know if he should be flattered or offended. He was still tall and wide, almost enormously so, but that just meant humans avoided him. He could have easily hid his tail with the magic, just like he did his horns, but he found it to be a comfort. 

The demon walked to the front door and pulled it open. The galley was quiet and his footsteps echoed. The only sound was from the air conditioning humming. He frowned and looked around. The art on display was all top-notch, and worth thousands of dollars. There were also sculptures on tall displays. But none of that caught his interest. He tilted his head up, flared his nostrils and sniffed the air.

There were lots of scents here. One was Otherkin, the other…

He couldn’t name it. He couldn’t even describe it. His heart thumped and his mouth watered. He adjusted the front of his pants and grunted. The scent was soft, sweet… but very faded.

Amon continued to wander around the gallery before he stepped around a pillar and stopped mid-step. There were three destroyed paintings in front of him. He stepped forward with a frown. Two were shredded beyond recognition, the third however... He touched the ripped canvas, pushing it up and tilting his head. It was a Viking war boat in rough waves, with lightning striking overhead. 

“Fucking shame,” he muttered. It was gorgeous, and made him think of home. He stroked his fingers over the waves, feeling the texture of the paint. Maybe he was more like a viking than he realized.

He stepped back suddenly and turned quickly. A growl rumbled in his chest as he stood staring at a man not quite as tall as himself but just as wide-shouldered. The man, bald with rich brown skin, stared at him with glowing eyes.

“Never thought I’d encounter one of you here,” Amon smirked.

“We’re closed,” the man answered. 

Amon sneered, showing his fangs. “You run this place? Why go and ruin perfectly good art?”

The man looked at the paintings. “I didn’t. Someone broke in.”

“Bet that pissed you off,” he laughed.

“What do you want, demon?”

“Demon,” he laughed. “Like you’re any better with those broken wings in your back.”

Reuben bristled. “I don’t do that anymore.”

Amon held his arms open. “So you Fell and now you run an art gallery? How presumptuous of you. Maybe I want to buy a painting.”

“Then come back when we’re open,” Reuben grunted as he walked by the demon. He stood, pointedly nodding to the door. “Leave.”

“What else is here?” Amon asked.

Reuben frowned. “What?”

“Something else was here. I can smell it.” He tilted his head and inhaled deep. “I want whatever it is.”

“There were police officers here earlier,” he said as he impatiently waited. “And an insurance agent. Go stalk them.”

Amon knew the fallen angel was lying. He grinned. “I like a good game, Damned One. Once I select my prey, I always find it.”

“You won’t find it here.”

Amon paused as he headed toward the door. He looked the fallen angel in the eye. They were hazel with bright flecks of gold and glowed with a power most beings only dreamed of. But with broken wings also came a stopper in that power. He sneered. “See you around.”

…

The restaurant was busy again. It wasn’t so much of a shock to Elijah. He was exhausted and cranky and had a migraine, so why wouldn’t the overpriced French restaurant be crawling with rich patrons who had more money in their wallets then Elijah would have all year?

He did his best though to smile and be as polite as possible. He needed good tips and couldn’t afford to be rude. That didn’t mean that everyone tipped well. He was affronted when the table of five, after racking up several hundred dollars, left him “the change” of five dollars.

Elijah had nearly burst into tears.

He finally caught a break and stepped outside for fresh air and to text Frankie back. He stood in the alley, back against the wall, when an obnoxiously loud motorcycle stopped at the light. He glanced up, nose wrinkled.

But he forgot how annoying the loud bike was when he saw the man who was straddling it. He was huge, probably as tall as Reuben. He was wearing a leather jacket, jeans, biker boots and chains in his wrists. He had a fantastic mane of hair, and Elijah immediately thought of all the Celtic rockers he listened to. 

_Holy shit._ He watched, somewhat forlorn, as the light turned the man rode off. 

Elijah looked down at the text he had been in the middle of sending. A general complaint about the night. No news on whoever trashed his paintings. He deleted it all immediately and instead told her about the man he had just seen.

**Frankie (7:59pm) Oh la la.**

At least it gave him something else to think about the rest of the night. His migraine even went away after he asked a coworker if she minded sparing a couple ibuprofen. And when it was time to go home he had actually taken in more tips than he expected. His mood raised considerably.

When he arrived home and switched on the light he saw a bright pink gift bag on the coffee table. He didn’t even have to check the tag to know that Frankie had stopped by when he was at work. Inside was a glitter bath bomb, a bag of dark chocolate covered almonds, and a gift card to the business he bought his painting supplies from.

Tears stung his eyes. He wondered what he ever did to deserve her as a friend. Frankie was as fierce as she was beautiful. A lot of people steered clear of her because she could be incredibly aggressive and had an air of dominance. But Elijah had always found her strength comforting, and she was fun and always honest.

**Elijah (9:47pm) I love you.**

**Frankie (9:48pm) I know ;)**

He filled the bathtub with hot water and dropped in the bath bomb. While he waited for it to finish foaming he undressed and washed his face and applied moisturizer. Then for a moment, he entertained the idea of the man in the Harley. But when it came down to it, he was too tired to even get off.

Elijah sank into the tub, tucking as much of his body under the water as he could. The bath bomb had turned it a pretty peacock blue and yup, there was glitter everywhere. He imagined he would be finding it for days both in the tub and on himself.

Oh well. At least he was relaxed, however short-lived. Because when he closed his eyes, all he could see were his paintings. They hadn’t just been vandalized, they had been purposely massacred. Whoever had done it had clearly had a personal vendetta with him.

But who? And why?

Elijah rubbed his eyes and sighed. When the bath water cooled he drained it, did his best to towel off all the glitter, and pulled on his pajamas and went to bed.

He fell asleep relatively fast. But it wasn’t long before he woke again. Screaming.

…

“Elijah, how are you this morning?”

Elijah, sitting on the couch with a coffee, sighed. “I’ve been better.”

“I hope you got some sleep,” Reuben said.

He put the phone on speaker and rested it on the arm rest. “I won’t lie to you Reuben. How are you this morning?”

There was silence and then a sigh. “The insurance company said it could be a few months before they process everything. And the police said that the security cameras were tampered with and there is no footage of the vandalism. And to top it off, no fingerprints or DNA samples anywhere.”

Elijah closed his eyes. “Sounds great,” he muttered sarcastically.

“I know you were relying on the money from those paintings. I already called the people who had been interested in buying and they said if you were up for painting duplicates, they would be very inclined to purchase. In the meantime I’d like to offer any help you need financially.”

Elijah stared at the phone. Reuben had always been kind to him, but this was a whole new level. “Um, Reuben, that’s all really nice but you don’t have to help me… It’s not your fault, either.”

“I know that, Elijah, but I feel like--”

“No,” he sighed. He leaned back, staring tiredly at the ceiling. “I’ll be okay, Reuben. I’ll take on some extra shifts at work, and I’ll get started on those paintings. It’ll all work out.”

“Well, if you change your mind, don’t hesitate to ask,” he said. “And whenever you’re ready, you can have the space upstairs back. I’m having new locks and cameras put in later this week.”

He glanced at the paints, brushes and canvas all piled in the corner. Untouched. “Sure thing. I uh, I have to get going. I’ll call you, okay?”

“Okay. Hang in there, Elly.”

Elijah ended the call with a touch of his finger. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He had the day off from the restaurant, and normally would be at the gallery right now, painting. He stared at the the canvas and paints in the corner. He should be painting. Or cleaning the apartment. Or doing housework. But he just wanted…

He grabbed his phone. 

**Elijah (9:49am) I need to get drunk.**

**Frankie (9:51am) I’ll pick you up tonight at 7.**

Evening plans sorted, Elijah got up off the couch. He needed to pull it together. If he let himself fall into depression he’d never get back out. First he put his phone on the charger and turned up his favorite playlist. Then he dressed in a tank and sweatpants and busied himself around the house. He did the dishes and the laundry down in the laundry room, he organized the pantry and made a grocery list. Then, when he grew tired of walking by his paints, he stopped.

He laid down a sheet and then set up the easel and a smaller canvas. His brain, stressed and sleep deprived, offered him absolutely no ideas. But he didn’t let that stop him. He squeezed globs of paint on the pallet and set to work. 

Elijah didn’t know what the painting was supposed to be when he started, but in the end, it smudges of stormy greys and whites, with tribal pattern over the top. He stepped back and frowned. In one of his many dreams he’d seen that pattern before, but it was tattooed on a person’s arm. A person with no face, and no real corporeal body, just a vision that had been there for a moment, and then gone. He’d only started dreaming about it these past couple months. And whenever he saw that shadow with the tattoos he didn’t wake screaming.

He sighed tiredly. He wondered if he had time for a nap. But when he checked the time he saw it was almost seven.

“Shit--” he yelped. He started to clean his brushes when there was a knock at the door.

“Right on time,” he said as he darted across the living room and around the easel that took up most of the space. He opened the door for Frankie, who grinned at him. “Hey--I need to shower and get ready. I got a little side-tracked.”

Frankie, hair done up and wearing hoops in her ears and a leather coat over her skinny jeans and boots, grinned. “Did you forget we had plans again or… Oh.” She saw the painting and stepped around the easel to look at it.

He left her to ponder the painting while he finished with his brushes and the pallet and then jumped in the shower.

Frankie was waiting in the kitchen and texting on her phone. Elijah sighed and said, “Okay, ready.”

She looked up and tilted her head. Elijah was wearing jean shorts and a off-the-shoulder grey sweater. “Aw, don’t you look cute.”

He blushed. “Shut up,” he said, looking down at himself. He was tired and a little anxious, and just wanted to dress comfortable. “Let’s go.”

Frankie took his hand as they walked down to her car. “You doing okay? Any word on who did it?”

“No,” he sighed. “Reuben says it’ll take a couple of months for the insurance to go through.”

Frankie drove them to a Foley’s Pub. She glanced at Elijah, who looked more pale than usual, and had black circles under his eyes. She purse her lips. “Well, if you need any help, you can always ask.”

“I’ll be okay,” he insisted. He leaned back in the soft, heated seat and was tempted to fall asleep. “It’ll work out.”

She hummed. The pub was busy as usual. After parking the two headed inside. The place was big and loud, and Irish down it’s woodwork. Elijah personally loved the place because of its aesthetic. Frankie because she once dated the bar owner and they maintained a good relationship. When they walked inside Frankie immediately spotted a group of friends and dragged Elijah over to the table.

Elijah didn’t know how many drinks he had, and after awhile, he didn’t care. Frankie said that night was on her so everything was top-shelf and delicious. They split a huge platter of appetizers and chicken wings. He was feeling full and happy, and pretty drunk, and Frankie’s girlfriends were all loud and distracting, just like her, but they were a comforting presence. He liked every single one of them.

“I gotta find the little boy’s room,” he said after finishing his drink. He stood, stumbled a little, before pulling himself together and heading toward the back. As the night went on the bar had become more filled and it was crowded and loud. Elijah carefully made his way around people and to the hallway that lead to the bathrooms.

He took a moment to catch his breath. It was dimly lit here and the sounds of music and voices muffled. He rested his hand on the wall, trailing his fingers along the rough wood panels. There were lots of framed photographs here. Pictures from the owner’s childhood in Ireland, photos of groups playing rugby and soccer, black and white ancestors and an Irish prayer. Elijah sighed and glanced up.

In the shadows, near the restroom door, was a man. He was watching Elijah with eyes so dark that no light touched them. Elijah frowned, stopping and leaning heavily on his hand. The man was… in a trenchcoat and a hat. He frowned, shaking his head, trying to clear the fuzziness from his vision. 

The man was gone. Or was he?

Elijah squinted. Why weren’t the lights on? Why was it so dark here? Or… was it…

He turned abruptly, deciding he could pee later, and slammed into a wall. He stumbled back, flailing. But he hadn’t hit a wall, but a chest, and when he stumbled a large hand closed around his wrist. Elijah flinched at the contact and looked up, eyes widening.

“Uhm,” he choked and stared up in shock. It was the guy he had seen the night before on the Harley outside of the restaurant! Elijah almost didn’t believe it, but there was no denying the long locks of braided hair, the dangerous expression, the jaw cut from stone and the absolute enormous size of the man. He was wearing all black and leather and chains, and when he looked at Elijah, his thick black eyebrows were drawn into a frown.

Elijah flinched. He carefully pulled his arm out of the man’s grip and stepped back. The man followed him, a frown tight on his lips and his fury bright in his eyes. Elijah had never had anyone look at him with such an intense expression of… what was it? Confusion? Anger? They were both perplexed but for entirely different reasons. 

Elijah backed into wall at the end of the hallway with a thud and stared up at the man looming over him.

“I--I need to go…” Elijah said, trying his hardest to sound authoritative but instead it came out soft and frightened. He took half a step and the man’s hand slammed into the wall next to his head. He yelped and jumped as the man effectively caged him in. And Elijah couldn’t be sure, but the man… was he _growling_?


	4. Two for Tragedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been having some creative issues again. I was way too creative for way too long and got a little burned. But thanks everyone who is reading this xoxo It means a lot to me.

Agitation flowed through Amon hours after he left the art gallery. The scent he was searching for had been there, but it had been impossible to track, and then he had encountered that damn fallen angel. Who was clearly lying and trying to hide something. He knew who possessed the strange scent. Amon decided he would start staking out the place tomorrow. And if the scent didn’t return? He’d take his frustrations out by killing that damn angel.

He went back to his hotel, needing to blow off some steam. That scent had left him uncomfortably hard, but getting off in the shower hadn’t made him feel any less tense. He growled, tail lashing as he rolled through his options. He could go to one of the many hidden Otherkin bars. There he could pick up a quick fuck or a fight or even both. There were the fighting pits in the abandoned subway stations underground that always promised a lots of blood, death, and money. He dressed, threw his glamor back up, and left his hotel room.

In the end he decided to stop at a human pub. There was a lot of Irish and Scandinavian ancestors in this city which meant that the cultural influences were everywhere. Maybe that’s why such a large population of Otherkin called the city home. He tried to remember the last time he’d had a human in his bed. He had taken a couple when he had first woken, but it hadn’t ended well for the humans involved. He had a lot more restraint now. He wasn’t quite so desperate for blood and fucking, two things the Otherkin world revolved around. 

He parked the bike and stomped into the pub. Loud, modern day Irish rock played overhead and people were laughing and dancing. Amon scented the air and his eyes were immediately drawn on a table in the back. Five women sat there, cackling and throwing back drinks. They looked human enough with their brown skin and dark hair, they were dressed up for a evening of dancing and seducing, or just playing with their prey. Because Amon knew how Furies liked to hunt. They were gorgeous and fucking dangerous.

Amon bared his teeth and almost backed out the door behind him. 

_Of all the pubs in this godforsaken city I walk into the one full of Furies._ Amon observed the women for a moment. They all looked human, using a lighter glamor than himself. Furies, like harpies and Valkyrie, still looked very human without the aid of magic. All had pointed ears, fangs, brightly colored eyes and nails that could curl into claws. Harpies has black wings, Furies had supernatural fighting skills and strength, and Valkyrie were all gifted with a special power.

When they didn’t notice him he made his way through the crowd. The place was large enough that they should be able to coexist without a problem. If he was lucky they wouldn’t even notice him. He started to make his way to the bar. It was easy, he was bigger than anyone else here. 

Amon stopped suddenly and whipped his head around. _That scent—!_ It was close. He shoved his way to the hallway that lead to the restrooms and rear exit. The lights were low here, and the fading scent of something dark and ancient was fading, pulling with it a cold dampness that had settled in the shadows. But that wasn’t what he was tracking.

When he stepped forward someone slammed into his chest. Out of reflex he reached down to grab the human to keep them from falling.

That simple touch sent all the blood in his body south and his body temperature heated dangerously. He looked down, meeting a pair of wide, blue eyes. When he inhaled—

Yes. It was that scent. It was so clear now. Soft human mixed with something ancient and electric. A half-breed. Not something unusual, quite a few species could only breed with humans or other species, but this one had no outer signs of being a demon, nor was he using glamor. Most frustrating was that Amon had no fucking idea _what_ the human was part of.

The little human pulled out his grasp with a soft sound and backed away. Amon, a growl caught in his throat, stalked after him before effectively cornering him. He frowned and bared his teeth.

“I-I need to go…”

Oh fuck. His voice. It sent shivers up Amon’s spine and the demon’s tail squeezed from where it was wrapped around his leg. He slammed his hands on the wall, caging the human in.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he snarled, his voice guttural. His heart was pounding and his cock aching in his pants. He leaned down, breathing in the heavy scent of fear and vodka. He pressed his nose against the young human’s neck, inhaling. Goddamn, he smelled of temptation. Amon’s cock pulsed in his pants and he wanted nothing more than this man naked beneath him. Why did he smell this way? What was he? He needed to find out, he needed to touch him, taste him-- He licked the half-breed’s neck.

“No—! Not okay!” The human yelped and ducked under his arm and behind him. 

Amon whirled around, eyes on his prey. Despite the alcohol the human was graceful. He was maybe five-foot-foot, slender, with black, curly hair that bounced with his movements. His cheeks were flushed from drinking but he was too pale; he was frightened. His eyes were huge and his lips parted. Lips that Amon wanted to kiss and bite and ruin.

Amon growled again. He wanted him. He was thinking of the best way to get what he wanted, which currently involved a ridiculous plan of just grabbing the human, throwing him over his shoulder like some kind of neanderthal, and leaving the bar with him, but that went up in smoke when they were suddenly not alone.

Behind the human appeared one of the Furies. One of the fiercer females with a good amount of dark hair done up on her head, held in place with a brightly patterned bandana. Her eyes, when they locked into Amon, cleared of any drunkenness and flashed with color. Her nostrils flared and she hissed in surprise.

“Elijah,” she gasped while grabbing the young male’s arm. “Are you okay?”

 _Elijah?_ Amon scowled. That human was his and he would be taking him. He stepped forward.

“Let’s get out of here,” the human said to the woman, pulling her along. “Please--”

Amon started forward, but the two turned into the crowd. He started to shove his way through humans, topping them easily, when someone he shoved recovered and hit him with a chair. He whirled around with a growl.

Outside the bar Elijah stood by Frankie’s car, arms crossed tightly across his chest. He trembled from the shock of the situation and the waning adrenaline. Frankie had parked far enough away from the building that they could watch the front door, but so far the large man hadn’t exited. “Let’s just go,” he suggested. “I-I think I’m done for the night. Besides, that guy--”

“Is dangerous,” Frankie finished. She looked down the street toward the pub, eyes squinting. She knew the demon was still in there, but had yet to leave. Her ears twitched under her hair. She could hear shouting. Frankie smirked. The demon had stirred up a bar fight in his attempt to leave in a rush.

“I was going to say weird. He licked my neck!” Elijah shuddered and rubbed the spot. “Who does that?”

She looked at him. “Yeah, that is weird.” Frankie unlocked the car and the two got in. She wasted no time tearing out of the parking lot and into traffic, earning her some very angry blares from car horns. She checked the rear view mirror.

Elijah, snapping on his seatbelt, frowned. “You don’t think he’d follow, do you? He was just a creep.” An admittedly gorgeous, wonderful smelly creep, but that didn’t give him a pass for what he had done.

 _No, he wasn’t._ “I’m sure he won’t, but I don’t want to risk it,” Frankie said. At the next stoplight she text her sisters at the pub, informing them of the demon and that she was taking Elijah home. If they were lucky, her sisters would kill the demon and Elijah could rest easy. 

She glanced at Elijah who was looking out the window. Demons had never bothered the half-breed before. His scent was so obscure that sometimes she forgot he wasn’t a full-blooded human. But she didn’t know what else he was. Neither did Reuben. And interestingly, Elijah seemed to have no idea that he wasn’t completely human.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Frankie asked. “It’s still really early.”

“No,” he said tiredly. “I’m feeling pretty shot. Maybe I’ll actually get some sleep tonight.” He smiled at her apologetically. “Sorry for bailing early. But I did have fun.”

Frankie smiled. “We all need to let loose more often. Too bad that guy was a creep, he was pretty hot.”

Elijah sighed. “It was the guy I saw outside the restaurant.”

“The hot viking?” she asked in surprise. 

“Yeah. Yeah…” he sighed, “too bad he had to get all weird. He was growling. Who--who does that?”

 _Horny, aggressive demons._ She smiled at him. “If he hadn’t been weird through, would you be in the alley with him right now?”

Elijah blushed hotly, his ears burning. “Hey! No!”

“Aw, come on Elly,” she laughed. “Let me find you a nice hook-up.”

“No, that’s okay,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m um, I’m fine.”

“Well, if you ever change your mind, I know a lot of hot vikings,” she said. Big, gentle demons who wouldn’t hurt Elijah. Who were all certified in good fuckings. “Just say the word, honey.”

“Yeah, uh-huh,” he said as he wrung his hands together. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

…

Amon was furious. First he found the scent that had been haunting him, only for it to be a small human half-breed, then he had lost the man in a bar fight and then was jumped by a horde of angry fucking Furies. And the only reason he got away alive and in once piece was because drawing attention to the supernatural was a big rule breaker in the Otherkin world and something everyone followed.

He roared away on his Harley, but he couldn’t find the scent again. Anger rushed through him. His muscles swelled and his teeth sharpened. He saw spots and growled. He needed to kill someone, right now. So he headed to the abandoned entrance to an old subway line. It was lined with mystical runes that hid it from unwanted eyes.

Leaving his bike he went down the stairs into darkness. The tunnel was long and lead to and old station which had been set up into a massive fight club. Amon dropped his glamor and shoved his way through the crowd.

With his reputation getting in was easy. He was good at splitting heads and people loved to bet on him and watch him. He stripped down to his pants before strutting into the caged-in ring. The cage was enchanted with a spell that wouldn’t allow anyone to leave until either the referee called the fight or someone was dead. 

Amon stretched and whipped his tail while circling the ring. When he closed his eyes he saw the human male in front of him. What was it that attracted him? Amon’s species of demon didn’t have destined mates, not like a lot of other Otherkin. But when he had pressed his nose against his throat and inhaled…

Right now he should have that human bent over in the alley, but instead here he was, working off his aggression in a different way. He would fight that scent again. Now he had a face to go with it. A… sweet face, with big blue eyes, and delicate features. Definitely not the kind of mate suitable for an alpha demon.

He growled. The door opened behind him and his opponent entered. Amon arched an eyebrow at the nine-foot tall cyclops. The cyclops stared down at him with a leering sneer. _Ugly fucker._

“When we’re done here I’m going to use your head as a candy dish,” the cyclops rumbled.

Amon grinned, showing his fangs and rolling his shoulders. His nails curled into long, sharp claws, and behind him his tail whipped in anticipation. They stood in their respective corners before the bell dinged and the crowd was yelling. Amon, light on his feet and more agile than the cyclops, danced around the ring.

The ground was stained red and black from years of bloodshed. Amon landed on it hard when the cyclops hit him and knocked him onto his back. He grinned and licked the blood from his lip before rising to his feet and lunging, catching the cyclops with his shoulder and ramming him into the cage wall.

The larger creature attempted to grab one of his horns and Amon whipped his head, using the sharp tip of the horn to cut the creature from wrist to elbow. His horns were sensitive and if broken or cracked would cause him excruciating pain. But they were also sharp enough to defend themselves. Some types of demons could secrete venom from their horns.

Amon knew this fight had to be quick. The cyclops was too big and strong to toy with. Using his tail be pulled the larger creature’s foot out from under him and then, when it was off-balance, lifted him up and slammed him into the ground.

The crowd roared and Amon’s blood boiled. The cyclops started to lumber to his feet but Amon pinched him, breaking its nose and spraying blood. He continued to hit, each blow making him hotter and hotter. His muscles swelled and his grey skin darkened. His eyes gleamed with excitement. He was covered in blood up to his elbows and when it was done—

He stood, holding the cyclop’s head up by its hair. It’s single eye stared into the crowd lifelessly.

Anon was breathing heavy and covered in sweat and blood. The cage door unlocked and he strutted out, throwing the head into the crowd and went to collect his winnings.

“That was pretty impressive,” purred a soft voice. Amon turned from the booth, money in his bloody hand. There was a tree nymph leaning against the wall. Her body slender and curved, with soft green a skin and big eyes.

He grunted. The fight had left him with a raging hard-in which he didn’t bother to hide. Amon looked her up and down. “And?”

“And I was thinking of what else you can do that’s so impressive,” she said, batting her eyelashes.

He looked around. There was a closet down the hall. Grabbing her wrist he lead her there. Her flesh beneath his hand was warm and she smelled like honeysuckle. She was on him before he even had the door open, and thrust them inside.

She didn’t care that he was covered in blood. The nymph unbuckled his belt and shoved his pants down enough that his cock sprang free. It was hard and deep grey and flushed blue in color. Amon lifter her and shoved her against the wall. She hiked up her skirt and wrapped her nimble legs around him.

Amon thrust into her easily. She was wet and open and soft. The nymph didn’t bother to hold back her moans, and raked her nails over his back. She rode against him just as hard as he thrust into her. 

The demon growled, bowing his head. When he closed his eyes he saw, what was his name… Elijah. His face covered in tears, his body wrecked and open, covered in the demon’s seed.

He snarled and plunged in the nymph harder, curling his fingers into her waist until she bruised. The nymph moaned, urging him on, and leaned up and started to suck on the tribal tattoos that covered his left shoulder.

Amon grunted. He could feel the build up in his belly, and he fucked her harder, but it wasn’t until he closed his eyes and saw that human, vulnerable beneath him, that he—

He rocked his hips as he came, and the nymph moaned in pleasure, riding against him. When he was finished he lowered her to the floor.

The nymph was blushing bright green and had a lazy grin on her face. Amon however, felt even less satisfied than before.

“Good thing I like it rough,” she laughed. She reached for his cock, still half hard and wet. “Wanna—“

He slapped her hand away and growled. “We’re done.”

Amon pulled his pants up and stormed out. His belongings and money were where he left them, no one dared to touch his things unless they wanted to lose their heads as well. He left the station, heart still hammering from the adrenaline from the fight and sex. Up on the street, in the fresh air, he threw his head back and took a deep breath as his glamor covered him. Above him, hanging over the city fat and pregnant was the full moon. He stared at it for a minute, trying to clear his mind.

As his blood cooled and the adrenaline wore off, Amon felt it. A pulling in his chest. He turned his head, and saw a shadow watching him. A man in a trench coat. But Amon knew it wasn’t a man. He frowned as the shadow vanished, leaving a sick feeling in his stomach.

He needed to find Elijah again. Something had to be done. Amon didn’t like feeling tethered. He was going to find a way to free himself, one way or another.

…

Elijah shuffled through his apartment. He stopped for a glass of water and then laid down on the couch, thinking that the change of scenery might help him sleep. He turned the television on to a mundane comedy rerun, volume turned down, and stretched out on his side.

It hadn’t been the same nightmare this time. Instead he had seen a stormy sea, a wooden dragon ship charging through white-capped waves, with a storm raging overhead. On the ship were women in armor, armed to the teeth with weapons, all with fierce eyes. In particular there had been a woman with long flowing black hair, twisted into warrior’s braids, and most importantly, she had been pregnant. She was their leader, and she stood fearless in the storm as lightning ripped overhead.

The image had rippled. He saw a flying horse, and a shadow that moved across the land. Then his name. Soft at first. There was a figure with tattoos on their arms, and fangs. _Elijah._ Shadows rushed all around him.

Then he had woken. From where he lay he could see the strange markings on the canvas he had painted earlier. He focused on them, on the shadow that sometimes hovered in his dreams. He closed his eyes, and with the tattooed man in the corner of his mind, slept soundly until dawn.

In the morning, feeling pretty refreshed despite the events of the day before, he woke with only a minor hangover. 

His fingers were itching to paint, but he had other things that needed doing: like buying food and other household items. He was out of toilet paper and he was exhausted with ramen noodles. So he changed into jeans and a t-shirt and headed out into the bright morning light.

Elijah drove to the nearest super-center so he could buy everything in one place. He grabbed a cart and headed through the automatic doors. 

The store was pretty quiet this early in the morning and Elijah was thankful for that. He started with non-food items and made his way up and down aisles. Toilet paper, laundry detergent, tissues… He spotted a display of Halloween candy and knew he shouldn’t, but he headed for it. Mm, where those ghost-shaped Peeps?

“...yeah there is a big Furie clan here.”

“What else?”

Elijah stopped when he heard the voices on the other side of the candy display. Normally he wouldn’t have eavesdropped but he male voice was so familiar.

When he peered around the display he saw why: it was the man from last night. He was dressed more casually today and his hair was pulled back, some of it up in a messy bun, with the rest lose or in heavy braids. Did he do that himself? Because that had to take a lot of work. Elijah wondered if...

 _Fuck. Why are the crazy ones so hot?_ He wondered as he hid again, and even though he knew he should run, he remained still. Listening.

“...the usual,” the woman he was speaking to continued. “Covens, nests, clans, you name it, Ironwood has it. Are looking for anything in particular?”

What the hell were they talking about? He frowned and pretended to look at his phone while a elderly lady walked by him. 

“I’m looking for someone,” the man said.

“I’m sure I can help,” the woman purred, his voice suddenly husky. “Or I can make you forget all about whoever it is you’re hunting.”

Hunting!? _Is he hunting me? No that’s ridiculous._ He dared to look again and saw the woman had stepped into the man’s personal space and was very obviously feeling him up.

Elijah frowned. In a grocery store? Really?

The man tilted his head down. “Make it worth my time and I’ll show you a good time, wench.”

Elijah had had enough. He turned, headed down the aisle and to the checkout. He didn’t have a chance to buy any food but he decided would just stop at McDonald’s on the drive home. He didn’t need to be seen by the incredibly hot, neck-licking weirdo, who was okay with being groped in the grocery store.

…

After trading contact information with the witch, and promising her a good time if she could help him find the young human from last night, Amon walked through the store. He had honestly come here for a reason: he was staying in a cheap, shitty hotel and it didn’t refill toiletries or even change the linens, so he had come to restock some of his essentials. He could have afforded a nicer place, but he hadn’t planned on staying in Ironwood for so long. Maybe he should just upgrade to a nicer hotel.

He paused, attention momentarily caught by a tall display of Halloween candy. He stared at it, wondering just why he was standing here staring at chocolate-shaped pumpkins with marshmallow filling and eggs with green cream in them when he smelled it.

 _It was that scent!_ He stomped around the display but no one was there. He followed his nose all the way to the front of the store, the check-out lane, and then outside where it ended.

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me.”


	5. The World Will Cease

Elijah sat on the floor in the kitchen, where the sunlight was pouring in through the window. In front of him was his sketchbook and the rest of his fries from Mcdonald’s and his soda. Like all his other sketchbooks it was filled with sketches and drawings in assorted mediums.

His pencil moved over the smooth paper easily, leaving perfect lines. Only when he was shading in eyes and dark hair did he realized he had done a rough sketch of the man from the bar and the grocery store. He tilted his head. For as big and wide as the man was, he had a very pretty face. Sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw and a well defined nose with evidence that it had been broken a couple of times.

He started to draw details into the man’s braids when he dropped his pencil and it rolled under the counter.

He reached for it, but when his fingers touched the darkness, the shadow snapped out and covered his wrist. Elijah yelped as the shadow dragged him toward a pit that appeared when the floor started to melt away. The darkness spread and the gaping pit formed into a mouth with jagged teeth. The mouth moaned hungerly—

Elijah sat bolt upright, his voice caught in a hoarse gasp and his heart pounding in his chest. He was covered in sweat and shaking. He curled up, pulling his feet away from the edge of the bed, and it was then that he noticed something on his wrist. After checking the floor of shadow monsters he leaned over and switched on the lamp that sat on the bedside table. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and then looked closely at his wrist. It was bruised, like someone had actually grabbed him.

_What the hell is happening to me…??_

He grabbed his cell phone and saw that it was just past midnight. He left the bed, turned on the light to make sure there were no shadows waiting for him, and went to use the toilet. Afterwards he splashed cold water on his face and stared at his reflection. He looked like shit. 

With a exhausted sigh he went back to bed, turning off the lights at the last possible moment and darting back to bed, pulling his feet away from the edge. He reached for the lamp, only to hesitate, and suddenly his imagination ran wild.

The shadows seemed to thicken and spread around him, and there was a weight in the room that he hadn’t felt before. “It’s my anxiety,” he told himself, “it’s just your imagination.” He turned off the lamp and flung himself onto the bed and under the sheets, relying on the old childhood mythos that sleeping under the covers would keep the monsters at bay.

He tried to ignore the growing chill in the room, and the shadows he thought he saw moving, telling himself over and over that it was his imagination. It was because he was tired. It was all in his head. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. He squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the pillow to his chest.

When he next opened his eyes it was to the spray of water in his face and thunder billowing in the distance. He saw storm clouds surrounding a mountain and a Viking war ship riding rough seas which fell off into nothing. Elijah stood on the edge of a canyon, listening to shouting voices that echoed all around him, and when he looked up he saw winged figures cutting across the sky. It was all so familiar but how could it be?

Suddenly the lightning was striking at shadows that spurted from the bodies of the dead which covered the ground at his feet. The largest shadow crawled over the hills and the mountain, creeping closer and closer. He tried to run away, but tentacles wound around his ankles and held him in place. He watched as the shadows formed into a disjointed shape with red eyes and sharp teeth.

Elijah choked as the shadow pried open his mouth and leaned down. A mouth closed over his own and he felt his breath be sucked away. Energy drained from him and the sound of thunder shook the ground beneath him.

Elijah woke with a gasp which morphed into a yell of fear when he saw a shadow hovering over his bed. Outside lightning struck nearby and the shadow lurched back and vanished. 

He collapsed back, sweating and shaking, temporarily unable to move. Lightning continued to flash outside but there was no rumble of thunder. When the paralisasis wore off he touched his mouth. His lips were cold and dry and there was a little cut on his lower lip. He reached for the lamp, but when he tried switching it on, nothing happened. In a panic he jumped from the bed and turned on the overhead light. With the shadows gone, he breathed a little easier.

This time he was definitely too afraid to go back to sleep, and instead went around the apartment, checking the locks on all the windows and door and turning on all the lights. He rubbed his hand over his flushed, sweaty face, and through his hair. Feeling clammy and violated, he decided to take a long, hot shower. 

After showering he ended up at his desk, sketchbook open. He drew the world from his nightmares; the mountain within the storm, and the ship charging through the waves. There was a horse in the sky, and a woman in armor. And finally, drawn sloppily with black colored pencils, was a faceless, formless shadow with hungry eyes.

He ripped it out, crumbled it, and tossed it into the little trash can he kept under the desk.

Hours later the sun rose, bright and gold, flooding the apartment with warmth and light. He made another pot of coffee and curled up in the old arm chair, staring out the window. The sun washed over him, warm and reassuring, and he sighed tiredly. The shadows never bothered him during the day. So at least he would have some time to breathe...

He rubbed at his face. Years ago, before his aunt had passed away and he was on his own, he had seen a therapist. He had been bullied throughout his school years, for being small and feminine, and for coming out as gay to someone he thought was a friend, but who instead told the wrong people. After being forced to switch schools he had fallen into a pit of depression, had developed dangerous coping skills, and had almost killed himself.

Maybe he should start seeing a therapist again. 

Elijah spent the morning into the afternoon mulling around the house. He tried twice to nap only to lay awake and staring at the ceiling. Needing to be busy he then ended up taking everything (what little there was) out of his refrigerator to clean it. He was just arranging all the condiments on the shelving inside the door, and thinking he really needed to buy some actual food, when his phone went off.

_“...Against the waves, with our swords in our hands—“_

Elijah grabbed his phone and saw Reuben’s face on the screen. His chest tightened. _Please no more bad news. Not today!_ “Hello?”

“Good afternoon,” Reuben said cheerfully, “how are you?”

“Just fine,” he said with a yawn. “What’s up?”

“Well, I have the new locks and everything set up, and was wondering if you wanted to come down and check it out? If you want your old studio back that is,” Reuben offered. 

He hadn’t planned on leaving the apartment until work that evening, but going out into the sun and interacting with someone not a shadow monster would probably be good for him. “Sure. Let me get dressed and I’ll be down.”

He changed into jeans a black hoodie that had a rainbow across the chest. He drove down to the gallery and parked in front next to Reuben’s car before heading inside. There was a black cat sitting just outside the door and he stopped to pet it.

“Reuben?” he called as he stepped through the automatic doors and into the air-conditioning.

“In here,” the man’s deep voice answered.

Elijah shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie as he crossed to the office. There he found Reuben, bent over the computer, typing furiously. “Let me finish this email…” the big man said.

“Sure,” he said and sat down. There was a bowl of hard candy on the desk and he reached for one.

Email finished, Reuben looked up with a surprised frown. His eyes swept over Elijah’s disheveled appearance.

“I know,” Elijah sighed, “I look bad. I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“What’s bothering you?” the big man asked.

“What isn’t,” he snorted. “Don’t worry about it. So what did you want to show me?”

“Right,” Reuben said as he stood. First he fetched a key from his desk drawer. “Well, first off here is the new key to your studio.” After handing it to him he lead Elijah from the office and through the gallery. Reuben unlocked the door with his own key and they headed up to the studio.

Any remains of the destruction was gone. There was a new easel set up, new lighting overhead, a loveseat in the corner and a mini refrigerator. Elijah looked around in surprise. “You… you didn’t have to do all this,” his said.

Reuben patted Elijah’s shoulder which made him stumble. “I wanted to.”

“Well it’s—it’s perfect. I don’t know how to thank you!”

The man laughed. “How about a painting for my office?”

“You got it,” he said with an excited grin. “I’ll move my stuff back in tomorrow. There isn’t enough room to work in my place without getting paint everywhere.”

Reuben snorted in amusement. “Yeah, you’re pretty sloppy.”

They headed back down to the main floor, making small talk, when Reuben stopped and Elijah ran into his back.

“Umph,” he grunted, stepping back.

“Elijah, go to the office and lock the door!” Reuben growled.

Elijah started in surprise. He stepped back before looking around the large man to see what had made him so upset so quickly. Only his heart nearly leaped out his chest and he saw the stranger from last night standing in front of them. 

“That’s the weirdo that attacked me the other night!” he gasped.

“He attacked you?” Reuben snarled.

The stranger was dressed close to the same as the other night but had his hair up in a loose bun with heavy tendrils hanging over his shoulders. When his eyes landed on Elijah he scowled and bared his teeth. “Get out of my way, Damned One,” he thundered. “That one is mine.”

Elijah stepped back as Reuben rushed forward. He watched in horror as the two squared off. He couldn’t hear the words exchanged, but after a animalistic snarl the stranger was lunging into Reuben and the two were falling to the ground with a thud that made that ground shake—

Elijah grabbed his cell phone, dialed 911 and hid behind a pillar, waiting for the dispatcher to answer. Behind him he heard an ungodly growl and something hitting the ground.

“911 what is your emergency—“

The phone was ripped from his hand and Elijah found himself staring up at the stranger. He scrambled back, tripping over his own feet, and nearly fell. He looked behind him and saw Reuben lying on the floor and struggling to stand. There was a smear of blood on the shiny floor tiles.

“What did you— _shit!_ ” Elijah found himself swept up and thrown over the man’s shoulder. The man took two leaps and they were outside. Elijah’s world was spinning. He found himself dropped into a motorcycle with the stranger sitting behind him, his muscled arms caging Elijah in. 

“Move and I’ll knock you out,” the man snarled as the bike roared and they screeched out of the parking lot.

Elijah had had every intention to try to escape despite the man’s threat, but he wasn’t given a chance to even try. They ran every red light, dodged cars and other traffic, and before he knew it, they were pulling up to a shady looking hotel on the city outskirts.

“Let me go, asshole!” he shouted when the man picked him, throwing him over his shoulder again, and was completely unphased by his struggling and shouting. The man unlocked the outside door to the hotel room and stomped inside and dumped Elijah roughly on the bed.

Elijah bounced and struggled to sit up. When he did he found the man standing over him, a frown on his face. There was blood on his knuckles.

“What did you do to Reuben?” he demanded. Unfortunately his voice shook and it didn’t come out as loud as he would have liked.

The man smirked. “You should be worrying about yourself.”

Elijah’s mouth snapped shut. He took a moment to look at his surroundings. The hotel room was pretty standard. There were water stains on the walls and ceiling, the carpet was an ugly shag. There was a table in the corner with a duffel bag on it and… Long knives. And a sword.

He paled and scooted back. He turned his eyes to the man. “Wh-what do you want?”

…

Now that he had the human in his possession, Amon had no idea what to do next. He stared at Elijah on the bed. The young human was frightened and the scent tempted to set Amon off. But he didn’t want to hurt the human. Quite the opposite.

Elijah looked tired and washed out and too thin. All things that Amon had noticed but hadn’t taken into account before. There were heavy black bags under his eyes and his lips were raw from being chewed. His hair was in disarray from the ride back to the hotel on the motorcycle. Amon stepped forward. Elijah moved back.

He grunted and lunged, catching Elijah by the back of his neck and hauling him forward. He leaned down and pressed his nose to the human’s neck and inhaled. He could feel the human’s thundering pulse beneath his lips. Fear wafted off him, tainting the air, but it couldn’t hide the human’s sweet scent. But it wasn’t the human part of Elijah that spelled so sweet, it was whatever else he was. Yes, this young man was definitely part Otherkin.

A rush of warmth hit him and he groaned, pants growing tight. He didn’t lick him again, only sniffed him down his neck and up into his hair, burrowing his nose in the soft curls. Beneath him Elijah trembled, but didn’t fight or try to move away.

_Why the fuck does he smell so good?_ He leaned away to look the human in the face, but kept his hand buried in his hair to keep him still. He stared at Elijah and entertained the possibility that he was an omega demon of whatever species he was. As an alpha, Amon was automatically drawn to omegas. They were weak and small, and appealed to his inner predator. To protect. Or to hunt.

By the ache in his pants he didn’t have to guess how he felt about this one. But omegas weren’t rare, there was no reason he should be so drawn to this human. Elijah stared back at him, brow furrowed in confusion, mouth parted. His blue eyes darted around Amon’s face, to his chest, to his arm, and he tried to slowly move out of his grip.

Realizing the silence was stretching between them, Amon released him and turned away. He locked the door before barking, “Are you hungry?”

Elijah blinked at him, wondering if he had heard the man correctly. “What?”

“Are you hungry?” he repeated with a low growl. The longer he stared at him, the more he felt an ache in his chest. The room was starting to smell like the human; soft and fragrant. Elijah was still scared of him, but had relaxed after he had moved away. 

“I-I… No! I want to leave,” Elijah said as he stood.

Amon stepped up to him, hand on the human’s chest, and shoved him back onto the bed. “Stay there.”

Elijah leaned up on his elbows. “Why are you doing this? Are you the one who destroyed my paintings?”

The pain and vulnerability in the second question had Amon’s hands shaking. He cocked his head. “I didn’t destroy anything of yours.” Seeing Elijah sprawled across the bed made Amon’s stomach tighten and his cock ache. Shit, this may not have been a good idea.

“Oh,” Elijah mumbled as he sat up. He ran his hand through his hair nervously. “So why did you kidnap me?”

_That’s a really good question._ So naturally he refuse to answer it. After the witch had told him that her familiar had watched Elijah enter the gallery, he’d immediately gone there. No plan in mind; he hadn’t even paid the witch what she wanted, too worked up thinking about this human. “Those were your paintings?”

“Yes. Why did you kidnap me?” But the man only ignored his question again and turned away. Elijah watched as he pulled out his cell phone and ordered a pizza and sides. He frowned.

Now that the man wasn’t looking, and he thought about running to the door, before remembering it was locked. He could try grabbing a knife but he wasn’t stupid. There was no way he could overpower this guy, who was a hell of a lot bigger than himself. He sighed, exhaustion weighing on his shoulders. Running on almost no sleep, no food, and just a couple pots of coffee, he knew the adrenaline of the situation would be wearing off quickly. And then what?

He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. He closed his eyes 

“Elijah.”

He snapped his head up and he blinked tiredly. “How do you know my name?”

“I overheard it,” Amon said. He approached the bed before sitting down. “You can sleep if you need to. I won’t hurt you.”

“While I sleep, or ever?” He demanded.

Amon smirked. _He’s feisty._ “While you’re sleeping.”

“So you _are_ planning on hurting me?” he asked.

They were close again. Elijah hadn’t moved away from him. “I haven’t decided yet.” _Why are you lying to him? Tell him the fucking truth. Whatever that is! You moron._ He wrinkled his nose.

Elijah tried not to stare into the man’s eyes, which were suddenly bright with aggression. “Wh-when will you?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“So… so why am I here?”

Amon frowned. The bed was small, and so was Elijah, but Amon took up much of the space which put them close together. He wanted to touch him, maybe bury his face in his hair again. Amon had had his share of omega demon’s, both in his bed and dead by his hands. But what about this little human attracted him and made him feel like he had no control of himself? “You’re talking too much.”

Elijah willed himself not to cry, but it was hard. His face flushed and his eyes were wet. “Why can’t you let me leave?” he pleaded.

Hearing that voice, so terrified and desperate, made Amon growl. He wanted to find whoever was making the half-breed so afraid, before remembering it was himself. 

He had to wonder again, why did he bring Elijah here? In the beginning it had been to pin him down and fuck him. No matter who he had sex with he never felt complete or satisfied. But sitting here with the trembling human he knew that sex was off the table. Elijah was scared and Amon was the one causing it.

He stood and shook his head, which made his long hair sway against his back.

“Just shut up,” he finally grunted. His ear twitched when he heard Elijah’s stomach rumble. 

He went over to the table and picked up his longsword. It was longer and heavier than anything humans used, with steel forged in the demon mines of Deimos. He saw Elijah watching him. Normally he would show off to impress a possible mate, even display his horns, but not this time.

Nothing here was familiar territory. In fact the human probably thought he was going to cut his head off or hurt him. Amon knew he should be reassuring him that that wouldn’t happen, but… _how._

He picked up a dagger sheathed in its scabbard, carved with intricate knots. “If I gave this to you, would you try to use it against me?”

Elijah glared at him. “I’m not that stupid to try.”

He pulled the dagger free and flipped it easily. “Do you know how to use this?”

“No.”

“I can show you,” he offered.

Elijah bit is lip. He relaxed his legs and shifted on the bed. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you should know how,” he said. This modern age confused Amon to his core. Whoever thought guns were a good idea? Swords and daggers were much more effective, no gun would ever kill an immortal. “So maybe the next time you’re taken against your will you can simply stab them.”

Elijah blinked. “Does that mean you’re planning on letting me go?”

Amon grunted. “Stop asking that.” 

Elijah dropped his head and choked on a little sound that pulled at the demon’s heartstrings. It was a feeling he was not used to nor comfortable with. He wished he had a drink, or someone he could text and ask what the fuck he could do here. He had a feeling the answer would be ‘don’t kidnap people.’

Elijah remained on the bed, curled up again, when there was a knock at the door. His kidnapper quickly hid the weapons from view and and snapped at him, “One word and I’ll kill them.”

Feeling like he didn’t have a choice because the last thing he wanted was to cause harm to an innocent person, Elijah kept his mouth closed as the man opened the door to take the pizza and a to-go bag from the young delivery girl. He even tipped her ten dollars and kindly thanked her.

Amon cleared off the table and set down the pizza. He unpacked the bag, setting out two bottles of soda, an order of wings, and a large brownie. Normally he wouldn’t have bothered with such an assortment but he was hoping he could get Elijah to eat. He frowned. The compulsion to care for the human was unsettling. Elijah wasn’t his mate. 

He glanced at the young man on the bed. “Come eat.”

“I’m fine,” Elijah mumbled.

He shook his head. “I can hear your stomach growling. Come on.”

Elijah hated that his stomach chose that moment to rumble again. He _was_ hungry. When did he eat last? He didn’t move, not until Amon sat down in one of the folding chairs.

Slowly he uncurled and stood up. He glanced at the door but knew it was locked and trying to get through would be pointless, so he shuffled up to the table. The man slid out the chair across from him with his boot.

Elijah sat stiffly. He refused to look up as he helped himself to a plateful of food and the second soda. The silence between them was heavy and full of tension, but that didn’t stop Elijah from eating. He hoped he could keep it down. He was scared and that made his stomach upset; or maybe it was because he was famished?

Finally, after eating a brownie, Elijah asked, “Do you have a name? Or so I just keep referring to you as The Kidnapper in my head?”

Amon looked up. “My name is Amon. And I didn’t kidnap you.”

“I can look up the definition if you want,” Elijah offered with a defiant wrinkle of his nose.

Amon stared at him. He opened his mouth to snap back when he smelled something, the same dark magic that he had felt before. It was a dank, dirty smell of stolen souls and a life in the shadows and ceilings and floorboards. Only shadow creatures had such a distinctive scent. He was trying to look for the source without being too obvious when he realized that Elijah’s eyes were huge and he was looking past Amon to the bathroom.

The demon looked back. Standing in the shadow of the open bathroom door was a gangly figure in a long coat. _Goddamn phantasm._ He stood, knocking his chair over, but the creature vanished.

He uncurled his hands, claws dulling back to nails, and turned around. Elijah was staring at him, mouth open. Obviously Elijah had seen the creature, and he wondered how to explain it--

“You saw it!?” Elijah suddenly exclaimed. “Other people can see that thing?”

Amon frowned and looked down at him. “You’ve seen that thing before?”

“It-it’s real??” Elijah gasped. His face was pale, his hands shaking from his lap. “Oh god… It _can’t_ be…”

Amon walked around the table. He leaned down, hand on the human’s trembling shoulder. The scent of fear and sickness filled the air between them and he hoped the human didn’t become ill. “It’s gone now. But where have you seen it before?” _You should never have seen that thing. Why would you know it?_

“Everywhere,” he whispered. “Everytime I close my eyes.” He turned to stare at him, blue eyes wide.

Amon cupped Elijah’s face and tilted his head up. He stared into his eyes and his face. No wonder the human was so tired and thin. Phantasm’s fed off a person’s energy and life force until the victim was too tired to fight back. Then possession and death. A possessive need to defend rushed through him and Amon felt his muscles swell and if he wasn’t careful, he would lose his glamor. 

And if Elijah was afraid of him now, well, he imagined he wouldn’t be too happy to see a nearly seven-foot demon towering over him. He grunted. This would be so much easier if Elijah knew about everything. Why hadn’t that damn Furie or angel told him about his mystery heritage? Why keep him in the dark? 

When Amon released him and stepped back, Elijah asked, “What is it?”

He wondered if he should lie. Elijah knew nothing the supernatural. Nothing of the Otherworld. Nothing of himself, even. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Again Amon wished he had a bottle of the foulest, strongest demon grog ever to be made. He needed to think but his mind was cluttered mess of emotions.

Amon did not do emotions.

“A phantasm,” the demon finally answered. “A shadow creature that feeds on your life force before killing you.”

Elijah blinked rapidly. “Th-that’s crazy.” 

“You saw it.”

“But that’s… that can’t be.” He stood, wringing his hands together and started to pace. “Things like that…”

“Have you ever seen anything else like that?” Amon asked gently as he watched the human pace.

“I’ve seen… things out of the corner of my eye. But it’s just my imagination,” he reasoned. He looked past Amon to the bathroom. The man followed his gaze and went and turned on the light. No shadow, no monsters.

Amon turned back to the human. Guilt started to fill him. Elijah was being haunted, terrorized, and then he had to go and kidnap him like a wild animal. He sighed and closed his eyes.

The logical thing would be to let Elijah go. But that would separate them, and Amon wouldn’t have that. Demons were very possessive with the things they coveted. They made dragons look good. “Look, Elijah…. That thing is dangerous. You need to tell me if you see it again.” He should be able to smell the phantasm when near enough, but the stronger it got, the trickier. And if it possessed it’s host…

“As long as you’re with me, I’ll keep it away from you,” he promised. He stepped up to the human, who leaned back in surprise. He leaned down again, taking Elijah’s face in his hands. Yes, he had all the signs of a looming possession. Amon had seen the shriveled up shells of demons and Otherkin who had been sucked dry by shadow creatures. Elijah was thin, pale, his skin nearly translucent. To anyone he just looked sick and undernourished. Now, knowing what he did, Amon felt anger again start to swell in him. He growled.

Elijah sat down on the bed in order to distance himself from the large man. He leaned over, head touching Amon’s thigh. “Please, will you let me go home?”

“No.”

“But why?” he cried, staring up at the man. 

“There’s something about you I need to figure out,” Amon uttered. “Until then, you stay with me.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means you’re mine, until I say so,” Amon snapped.

Elijah leaned back in surprise. He watched as Amon, hands and jaw clenched, took a couple steps one way before whirling around and stomping into the bathroom, slamming the door. After a second he jumped up and ran for the front door, but as expected, it was locked. There was only the big bay window in front of the bed and it didn’t have any way of opening. He thought about trying to break it, it was already cracked, but where would he go? He parted the curtains to look out. They were on the outskirts of the city, some shitty little hotel hell that he would have never stepped foot in. Outside he saw no one. Was there anyone else even staying here?

He saw a shadow outside, something that sucked the light from the streetlamps.

Tears filled his eyes and he stepped back until he fell onto the bed. If what Amon said was true, then wasn’t it more dangerous out there than in here? And to make things even worse, when Amon was close, Elijah didn’t like Amon would actually hurt him. He knew what Amon had done was fucked up and wrong, but when the large man was close, he didn’t feel like he was in any real dangerous. Despite what the man said, Elijah didn’t think he would harm him.

There was something about the way he smelled and moved, and the way those strange eyes looked into his, that made Elijah feel an uncomfortable ache in his chest. Some nights he woke with that same feeling, like there was a gaping hole in his chest, a missing piece to him. But that was stupid. Amon was a kidnapper who refused to tell him what he wanted. So far he hadn’t hurt him, and he had said horrible things, but he had also softened when looking at him, and he had showed genuine concern. 

He also knew what the monster from his nightmares was. Elijah looked at the fading bruise on his wrist.

No, it wasn’t a nightmare. It was real. It was trying to kill him. He watched as a shadow passed by the door and the window, but the creature didn’t enter. Elijah looked toward the bathroom. Was it possible that the phantasm was afraid of Amon? What if… Amon could actually keep the thing away from him?

He chewed his lip and sat back on the bed. Where was it more dangerous? In here, or out there?


	6. Before the Morning Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been kind of inactive. But here is a new chapter, yay :) xoxo

Amon showered, hot water spraying over his body, for a moment not concealed by a spell. He growled, tail lashing behind him. He had hoped once he had Elijah in his grasp that things would change. Maybe the ache in his chest would cease. Or the constant hard-on he always seemed to have would go away. Maybe he could fuck somebody and actually feel complete. But it was just escalating. And making it worse was that Elijah was terrified of him, which put Amon in an especially aggressive mood. It was all his own fault, he acknowledged this, he just didn’t know what to do about it or how to make anything better.

He dressed, carefully pulling on a black tank-top and a pair of sweatpants, before reapplying the spell that hid everything about him that made him a demon. He hated hiding himself from Elijah. But if the halfling was scared of him as a man, then he was sure he wouldn’t be too thrilled to see that he would be sharing a bed with a demon.

With a deep breath he left the bathroom.

Elijah looked up from where he sat in the center of the bed when he heard the bathroom door open and Amon stepped out. His eyes widened and his mouth opened in surprise as his gaze slowly traveled down over Amon’s neck and collarbone, to the tank that fit him like it was painted on, detouring at his exposed deltoids, biceps and triceps. He swore he could see the sharp cut of every muscle through the man’s shirt. And how wide were his shoulders? Was that even possible? His skin was tanned and flushed from the shower, still wet. There were tattoos swirled across his skin. He was… gorgeous. Elijah wanted to paint him.

Amon smirked, hands on his hips. “Finished undressing me?”

Elijah’s face blushed and he looked away. “I wasn’t.”

Amon smelled the air and smirked. Elijah could lie all he wanted, but scent didn’t lie. The little halfling thought he was hot. _Yes, and maybe if you hadn’t kidnapped him, you could have done the normal thing, like ask him out on a date?_ taunted a little voice in the back of his head. Amon ignored it and dropped down onto the bed, jostling Elijah who nearly fell over. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” he asked as he stared at the absurdly large man next to him.

“Sure as fuck not sleeping on that disgusting floor,” Amon grunted as he stretched out his long legs.

Elijah couldn’t really argue with that point, but he was not sharing a bed. First off, it was too small and Amon too big, so there are no way not to touch each other. Second, Amon smelled… amazing. Had he put on some kind of cologne or was his natural scent just that intoxicating? Elijah could feel the heat radiating off him, and he was nearly overcome with the urge to curl up against him and go to sleep.

Instead he looked toward the window. The shadow that had been lurking was now gone.

“That thing won’t bother you while I’m here,” Amon said. He tentatively reached out to rest his hand in Elijah’s leg. Elijah flinched under his tough, his entire body tense. He frowned. What could he do to make the halfling not fear him?

Elijah stared down at the massive hand on his thigh. Massive was a good word. It looked like it was rough from hard work; wielding swords and knives? He could feel the power in this slightest touch. Just what kind of man was Amon? What kind of giant man traveled around to shitty hotels on a motorcycle with swords and knives, wearing leather pants and his hair like a Viking? 

_He’s everything I’ve ever dreamed about,_ he realized with a start. From the hair to the tattoos to the sword.

Feeling a rush of warmth and feelings that he should not be feeling toward his kidnapper, Elijah stood and went over to the table. He boxed up the leftovers while he ate another brownie. But chocolate and sugar did little to distract him from the heat pooling in his stomach. He cleared his throat.

“Can I use the bathroom?” he asked without turning around.

“Go right ahead. But if you try locking me out I’ll rip the door off its hinges,” Amon threatened, and he would later pinch himself from sounding and acting like such an unnecessary ass.

Elijah had no doubt that Amon could, but he didn’t think he would, so he locked it anyway. After using the toilet he started the shower. As he undressed he saw a travel bag hanging on the hook on the back of the door. He chewed his lip before pulling it off the hook and rifling through it.

Toothbrush. Toothpaste. Shampoo and conditioner. Hair products. Dental floss. Deodorant. Body spray. Body wash a soap. And lube. But no keys or cell phone. There was a leather pouch and inside were strange coins of different colors and shapes. He ran his fingers over a gold coin with what looked like a diamond in the center and little circles cut out of it. Was this a prop? Jewelry? He wrinkled his nose and hung it back up.

Once in the shower he wished he had taken the shampoo with him. But the hot water ran out fast, switching to cold so quickly that Elijah shrieked and leaped out of the shower. He grumbled as he dried off, forced to use a slightly damp towel that Amon had clearly used, which unfortunately smelled rich and heady just like the man, before pulling his clothing and shoes back on. 

Still refusing to share the bed, Elijah instead went to the table and sat down. He started to fidget.

“Why are you doing that?” the man asked.

Elijah looked up. He stopped moving. “Because I’m anxious.”

“Anything I can do to help you with that?” he asked with a smirk.

Elijah scowled at him. “I doubt you have any paper or pencils with all your… weaponry, so no.”

Amon tilted his head and shifted on the bed. “So you draw when you’re stressed?”

“Fast learner, aren’t you,” Elijah mumbled.

“You have a smart-ass mouth, don’t you?” Amon countered.

Elijah wrinkled his nose again before dropping his head into his arms and on the table.

“Are you seriously planning on sleeping there?” the demon rumbled.

“I don’t usually sleep a lot anyway,” he mumbled.

“Because of that phantasm,” Amon said. “The less sleep you get, the more vulnerable you become.”

“So what do you suggest I do?” he muttered into his arms.

“Come sleep with me. I’ll keep you safe.”

“You kidnapped me,” Elijah reminded him as he turned his head to look at the man, “and you beat up my friend.”

“He’s fine,” Amon snorted. And he was probably out looking for Elijah right now. He wondered how long until the fallen angel found the hotel. “Come here.”

“No.”

Amon tensed, ready to get up and grab him, but instead he closed his eyes. Fine. Let him sleep in the chair. 

“Tell me about yourself,” Amon asked as he stretched out on the bed. Elijah was damp from the shower, his skin pink and soft. His hair was especially curly when wet. _Very cute._

Elijah watched Amon. drinking in all his details. He had tattoos on his left arm and shoulder. Faded scars on his arms from what was probably a sharp blade. His torso was lean but obviously ripped with muscle. He hated how attractive the strange man was, but what was even worse was that Amon knew it. Elijah had never had a “type” before but he realized very suddenly he did, and it was Amon. 

“Why?” he finally asked.

“I’m curious. Who were your parents?” Amon knew Elijah was checking him out, so he stretched out on his back, barely fitting in the bed. He folded his arms behind his head and lay, legs slightly open. His shirt slid up to reveal his stomach and abs.

“They’re both dead,” Elijah snapped, “so no ransom money, if that’s what you wanted.”

Amon’s lips twitched. “I don’t plan on ransoming you,” he said. “Tell me how they died. How old were you?”

Elijah’s nose twitched and his lips pinched before he answered, “My mom left and died just after she had me at home. My dad passed away when I was two.”

“How do you know your mother is dead?’

“Why does that matter?”

“I’m curious.”

“You’re nosey,” Elijah sighed. “I don’t know how my mom died, it’s just what my aunt told me. Dad was killed in a robbery.”

“So your aunt raised you? Mother’s side or father’s?”

“Father.”

“What were the names of your parents?”

“If we’re going play twenty-questions then I get to ask, too,” Elijah said stubbornly and crossed his arms.

Amon frowned. “No.”

“Then I’m not answering anymore.”

“I can make you.”

“I don’t think you’ll hurt me,” he said, praying he was right.

Amon smirked. “I don’t have to hurt you to get answers out of you.” But when Elijah only blinked at him in confusion, Amon realized how innocent he actually was. He felt his stomach tightened with excitement. He ran his hand down his stomach and between his legs.

Elijah blushed hotly and his heart went _boom._ He looked away and wrung his hands together. “I’ll scream if you try anything.”

“Maybe that’s what I want,” he purred.

“You-you wouldn’t…” Elijah may be positive that Amon wouldn’t physically harm him, but he could do other things to him. And as hot as Elijah found him to be, and even though the thought of being beneath him had entered his mind more than once, he definitely didn’t want it to happen here and for that reason.

Amon sighed. “No, I wouldn’t,” he said. “Rest assured I’ll not touch you unless you ask.”

Elijah continued to stare at the floor. He remembered what Frankie had said about finding him a hook-up. Maybe he should have said yes, then he wouldn’t have such conflicting feelings. Amon was hot, and he made Elijah ache, but not so much that he would do something stupid like sleep with him. But the ache was… familiar. He’d woken many nights over the past couple of years with this yearning in his chest, like he was missing something. A part of himself. A friend. A lover. But he’d never had anyone to really miss. And now around Amon, the ache seemed to pulse, and the worse it was, the more he… wanted him.

The silence was unsettling and his thoughts weren’t helping so Elijah said, “I saw you at the grocery store.”

Amon tensed. He knew that Elijah had been there, but not that the human had seen him. “Did you now.”

“A woman said you were hunting someone,” he whispered. “Was it me?”

Amon studied the water stains on the ceiling before answering. “Yes. What else did you hear?”

Elijah didn’t want to delve into the weird stuff involving covens and clans, so he said, “That you would show her a good time. And that you two were practically having sex right there in the produce department.”

Amon blushed. “Does that make you jealous?”

“You’re an idiot.” He turned away, fidgeting. He wanted to ask why the hell Amon had targeted him but he had a feeling that the would evade answering the question because that’s all he had done all night! So Elijah decided that he was done playing. He rested his head in his arms and looked away.

Amon wasn’t done with his questions, but he knew that Elijah was done cooperating. So he turned down the lights and laid back, eyes in his prey.

An hour later Amon rose from the bed. Elijah was asleep in the chair, head pillowed in his arms in the table. He was whimpering in his sleep. Amon could sense that the phantasm was close, but it wasn’t daring to enter the room. Amon had never killed a phantasm before, but he was sure if it materialized that he could cut off its head.

A low growl rumbled from his chest as he stood over Elijah. The chill started to lift from the room, but the small human was still suffering from a nightmare.

Slowly, as not to wake him, he lifted Elijah from the chair and cradled him to his chest. He was incredibly light, and his skin cold to the touch. He carried him over to the bed and laid him down.

The demon sat down next to the halfling and pushed the damp hair from his face. Elijah immediately relaxed, even leaned into the touch. The human was cute. Amon didn’t go for cute. Or fragile. He went for strong, flexible; a mate who could take a hard pounding from his cock which, not bragging, was big.

The big demon slowly stretched out next to him. The bed was small, there was no way to lay together without touching. Soon enough he realized that it didn’t matter, because Elijah rolled over and snuggled against him the moment he was settled.

Amon blushed. He stared down at the half-breed; vulnerable and small. His heart thumped and again, he started to get hard. He adjusted himself and cursed. His hundreds of years of self-control just melted away when he was around the human. He was acting like a teenager again. Full of raging hormones and flustered feelings. 

There was no moving away now, not with Elijah tucked so perfectly against him. He was soft, his skin warmed, and smelled sweet and clean. Amon focused his attention on the ceiling and tried to not let the human’s scent get to him.

The demon saw a shadow moving around outside the window. The phantasm was lurking, but it wouldn’t feed tonight, not with the two of them in bed together. Amon heard a soft voice, a hushed whisper from under the door, trying to lure Amon away from the human. But the demon simply closed his eyes and ignored it. 

…

_Tap, tap, tap tap._

Elijah woke with a start, and several alarming things hit him at once. First off, he wasn’t home. And he was spooned against a large man. Then there was the familiar tapping and scratching at the window.

He sat up, only to have the corded arm that was wrapped around him tighten. Blinking sleepily he stared at Amon’s face, soft and peaceful in slumber. All the hard lines and features were relaxed, and he looked shockingly handsome, beautiful even. Elijah resisted the urge to run his hand over Amon’s cheek. He wanted to--

_Tap, tap…_ A shadow moved outside the window.

“Mmrph,” grunted the large man. His eyes opened and he looked up at Elijah who was sitting up, his attention focused on the window. His arm tightened and he pulled the halfling down against him. “Ignore it.”

“It’s hard to,” Elijah whispered as he let himself be pulled against the larger man. Amon was warm and big, and gentle in his half-asleep state. Elijah couldn’t resist tucking himself against him.

“I won’t let it hurt you,” Amon said sleepily.

“What about you?” he asked.

“I won’t,” he said as his eyes closed and he relaxed. “I’d never hurt you.”

Elijah blinked. He inhaled, and Amon’s rich scent had him tingling down to his toes. “Promise?”

“Yes,” he answered. He shifted, arms around Elijah, one hand coming to rest on the small of his back, under his hoodie. “Communication isn’t my forte. I haven’t been out in the world that long…”

As Elijah frowned at his curious words, but Amon had fallen asleep. He nuzzled against his chest and as he drifted off, and any thoughts of nightmares and tapping at windows was wiped out when his imagination whirled around, conjuring up images of soft kisses from Amon. It was foolish, to imaging such a scenario, but Elijah couldn’t help it. His dreams spun up images and ideas, of an alien landscape of twisted trees and the sound of horns, of a sky full of lightning, and Amon in armor with a broadsword, standing over a pool of crystal clear water, wearing a helmet with horns on it. Amon was here for a reason, and Elijah decided that in the morning, he was going to find out the truth.

…

Elijah woke to an explosion. Or that’s what he thought it was at first. He woke with a jump, eyes wide and body crushed against Amon’s chest. He struggled to sit up and saw that the hotel room door had been completely blown off its hinges and was splintered into pieces cross the floor. Sunlight streamed in the doorway, along with a huge shadow.

Next to him Amon sat up with a snarl, putting his arm out cover Elijah. He growled. “What the fuck--”

Elijah scooted back against the headboard, watching as the shadow grew closer and closer until…. “Frankie?” he gasped. Yes, it was Frankie and behind her, Reuben. But neither of them looked human. Frankie’s eyes were black and bright, her ears pointed, and she had claws. When she saw Amon she hissed, showing sharp teeth. Behind her Reuben had black wings and glowing yellow eyes. In his hand was a sword of fire.

“Amon,” snarled Frankie when she sat him on the bed with the half-breed. “If you hurt him--”

“I didn’t hurt him,” Amon snapped. He looked back at Elijah, whose eyes were locked on his friends. He momentarily entertained the idea of using him as a shield, neither creature would attack and hurt him, but he… couldn’t. Instead he stood up and grabbed his sword from where it had fallen. He smirked. “You’ll have to kill me for him.”

Reuben folded his wings back in order to fit through the doorway and into the hotel room. “My pleasure.”

“Wait!” Elijah yelped as he leaped from the bed. “Don’t kill anyone!”

The fire dimmed from Frankie’s eyes as he looked at the young human. She reached forward to hug him. “I was so scared that he did something horrible to you. Are you okay? What happened?” Elijah was fully dressed, he didn’t smell like sex, only like the demon’s scent. He wasn’t scratched or bleeding; his eyes were wide from the shock of the situation, but he showed no outward signs of abuse.

“Why do you have pointed ears?” Elijah asked instead.

“She’s a Furie,” Amon smirked as he held up the sword. The fallen angel stood nearby, tense. “And he’s a fallen angel.”

“Shut it,” snapped Frankie as she turned to him, her arm around Elijah, “or I’ll rip out your tongue.”

Elijah blinked and rubbed his head. Was he still asleep? Was this a nightmare? He didn’t remember much… not after waking up the one time. The rest of the night had been un-interrupted sleep and hot and heavy dreams involving Amon.

But now he was living a nightmare. “What the fuck is going on?” he demanded. 

“I’ll explain it all to you, I promise,” Frankie said. “Let’s leave Reuben to deal with this guy.”

Elijah frowned. “Wait--don’t kill him.”

Reuben frowned. “Elijah, I know you have a gentle heart but--”

“No,” Elijah insisted. “He was telling me about a phantasm, I need to know more.” Sure, last night he didn't believe that it could possibly be real. A shadow creature that fed off life force? But now, staring at his two best friends, who were clearly not human… well, why wouldn’t the shadow creature be real?

“What phantasm?” Frankie asked.

Amon smirked. “Some friends you two are,” he said. “Didn’t even notice-- Fuck!”

Elijah yelped when Reuben lunged at Amon. But instead of killing him, he merely hit him over the head with the hilt of his sword. The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Then Reuben folded his wings into his back, and the fire sword vanished. He leaned down, picking Amon up and throwing him over his shoulder.

“We are not taking that thing with us,” Frankie insisted.

“We have to,” Reuben said, “if we don’t he’ll just find Elijah again.” He stomped out of the hotel room and to Frankie’s Lexus. He popped the trunk and dumped the man in it. “This way we can keep an eye on him.”

Frankie sighed. She picked up Amon’s sword. “Nice,” she said, swinging it. “Mine now.”

Elijah stood in the doorway, looking between them. “Guys… just… what the fuck?”

“Right,” Frankie sighed. “I’ll explain on the drive home. Come on, honey.”

“No,” Elijah said stubbornly. His palms were sweating and his heart was racing. He shook his head. “I want to know what’s going on. Right now.”

He was prepared to stand his ground when Reuben simply swept him off his feet, carried him outside, and dumped him in the backseat of the car, along with Amon’s weapons and bag. Then Frankie dropped into the driver’s seat, Reuben fit into the passenger, and they were speeding away from the shabby hotel and back to the city.

“Okay, here’s the short version,” Reuben said, looking back at him, “the world is not just humans. There is a whole separate Otherworld. Every creature, monster, and demon that you’ve been heard about it real.”

Elijah blinked rapidly. “Unicorns?”

“Yup,” said Frankie.

“Vampires and dragons?”

“Yes,” answered Reuben. “And werewolves, angels, fey, witches and all lesser known demons.”

Elijah twisted his hands together. “So…. so if this is true…” which why wouldn’t it be? He saw Reuben’s wings, he saw the glow of their eyes, he’d seen… that shadow creature, “what are you two?”

“I’m a Furie,” Frankie said.

“As in, like, from Mount Olympus?” Elijah said, staring at her. “The-the women who like, punished people?”

“The very ones!” she said happily. “Though the whole punish people over broken oath’s bullshit ended a long time ago.”

“And… Reuben you’re a, a angel?” he asked.

Reuben cleared his throat somewhat nervously. “I’m… a… fallen angel.”

Elijah blinked. “But you still have wings?”

“I do,” Reuben said. “It’s a very long story…”

“Like, millions of years old,” Frankie laughed.

“You’re a million years old?!” Elijah yelled.

“I am… not--I mean,” Reuben shrugged and turned away. “You make me sound like I’m ancient.”

“Honey, if I looked up old-as-fuck in the dictionary, your face would be there. There should be museum displays dedicated to you.”

“Shut up, Frankie.”

“So what’s Amon?” Elijah asked. “He’s obviously not human.”

“He’s a demon,” Reuben said. 

“Like… Exorcist demon?”

“No, no,” Reuben reassured. “Demons like that are… it’s complicated. There are many types of demon, in a way we’re all demons. There are those who hail from all different dimensions and hell-planes and other worlds. There are hundreds of species.”

“It’s a general term,” Frankie added.

“Why did he kidnap me?” Elijah asked. “He said he wouldn’t let me go because he there are something about me he had to figure out?”

“That, I don’t know,” Frankie said. 

Elijah sighed and sat back. When they pulled up through the back alley behind the gallery, he frowned. “Why are we here?”

“Because we need to secure that demon,” Reuben explained. “The basement is set up for it.”

“Are you saying you have a dungeon in the basement?” Elijah asked.

“Oh!” Frankie yelped. “Dungeon? For torture? Or for sex? Oh! Both?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Reuben grumbled as he quickly left the car. 

Elijah sat back. He heard the trunk open and then close, then saw Reuben carrying Amon toward the building. He looked away, staring down at his hands. When Frankie’s hand covered his own, he looked up. “I’m processing.”

“I know you are,” she said. She slipped between the seats and sat next to him. “I’m sorry I never told you.”

“Why would you?” he said with a shrug. “It’s not something that comes up in conversation.” Though now all her weird t-shirts made sense. She was always wearing pentagrams or magic puns. Now he knew why. He looked at the shirt she wore now, a black tank with “Runs on Crystals and Coffee” printed on the front.

“Not usually,” she said with a smile. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Elijah followed her inside. He knew there was a basement, but he had never been in it. Now he knew why. The walls were dark and the basement smells dank and wet. There was minimal lighting and… yeah. Torture dungeon. He looked at Amon, who was currently strapped to a large chair that had inscriptions carved all over it. There was also a large stone altar with chains on it, more inscriptions, and hanging on the walls were weapons and ancient tapestries. Carved into one wall was a bookshelf and it was filled with old, leather-bound books.

He stood at the base of the stairs. “What do you use this place for?”

“Fun times,” Frankie laughed as she hopped onto the altar and swung her feet.

Reuben scowled at her. “Off that, now Furie.”

“Ugh…”

The three stopped, eyes on Amon as the man started to wake up. He raised his head and growled. “Fucking hell,” he grunted, “what did you hit me with?”

“You’re only alive because of Elijah,” Reuben snapped. “Be grateful.”

Amon spit blood on the floor and looked around. He smirked at the bonds holding him and looked up at the two. When he leaned over he could see Elijah standing far across the room. “So, cat’s outta the bag, huh?”

“No thanks to you,” Frankie snapped.

He chuckled. Amon looked up again, because Elijah had stepped closer and into view. He stared at him, not breaking eye contact as he dropped his glamor. His skin became a light grey, his black hair had blue streaks in it, his eyes glowed yellow. His nails were black and sharp and his tail lashed around behind him, through an opening in the chair. On his head curled two large, black, shiny horns. He grinned, showing his teeth. “Boo.”

Elijah swallowed hard as a shiver rushed over him. Amon was definitely less human looking than his friends. He stared at his skin, the dangerous yellow fire in his eyes, and the--horns. He frowned. _They’re beautiful._

“Ugh,” Frankie grunted. “Storm demon. Typical. You’re all barbarians, aren’t you?” She hopped off the altar and headed for the stairs. “I’m dying for some breakfast. There’s a Starbucks just down the street, right?”

“Yeah,” Reuben said. “Elijah? Let’s go.”

“Give me a minute,” he said as he continued to stare at Amon.

“I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone with him,” Reuben said.

“Can he get out of that chair?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then I’ll be okay,” he said, glancing back with a little smile. “Go on.”

…

Amon smirked as the Furie and fallen angel left him alone with the half-breed. He tilted his head. Elijah couldn’t seem to stop staring at him. He was flattered. He twitched his tail. “So how much did they tell you?”

Elijah stepped closer. “That you’re a demon. And what they are; that there are other worlds with other creatures in them.”

“Hm,” he hummed. “Is that all?” Did they not tell Elijah about himself? Interesting.

“For now,” he said. Elijah tilted his head when he saw Amon’s tail flicking behind him. He stepped around the chair. “You have a tail, too?”

The tail whipped out, grabbing Elijah by the wrist. The young human yelped in surprise. “Yes.”

“Let go,” he gasped. “I’ll yell for Reuben if you don’t.”

“I won’t hurt you,” Amon said as his tail released Elijah, only to slid down his stomach and the front of his pants. The human leaped back in surprise and the demon laughed. He tilted his head. “So, what to you think? Like what you see?”

Elijah straightened up before shrugging and crossing his arms across his chest. “You’re pretty.”

It wasn’t the answer Amon expected, and he stared at Elijah. “Um.” Pretty was not usually how one described a nearly seven-foot tall demon. His tail wagged. 

“But that doesn’t mean I forgive you for kidnapping me,” Elijah said. 

“So why are you here, Elly--”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped.

“Fine. Elijah. Why did you stay behind? What do you want?”

“The phantasm didn’t bother me last night,” he said timidly. “Why?”

Amon tilted his head as he thought about it. He’d fallen asleep with Elijah against him, and had woken at one point during the night with his arms around the young human, his face buried in his sweet smelling curls. He’d nuzzled at his ear, had stroked his hands down his back, even stolen a little touch of his ass, which he found soft and plump and perfect. He shrugged. “Phantasms generally are weak creatures. Against something like me, they don’t stand a chance.”

“So you could kill it?” Elijah asked hopefully.

“If I could catch it,” Amon said. “But shadow creatures are near impossible to catch unless they’re possessing a host or they dare to materialize.”

“Then what do you do?” he asked, but he already feared the answer.

“You kill the host,” Amon answered. “That’ll kill the phantasm.”

Elijah swallowed hard. He looked away and ran his hand through his hair. This was unbelievable. He had his first good sleep in months and it was in the arms of a giant fucking demon. “Why did you kidnap me?”

“Because I wanted to.”

“No,” Elijah insisted, turning to him. He stomped up to the demon, standing at his knees. “You said there was something about me you had to figure out. What was it?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying,” Elijah said. “What about me caught your interest?”

“I like the way you smell,” Amon sad honestly. “I wanted to smell you again.”

“That’s it?” he asked, wrinkling his nose. “What about my, um, smell, attracted you?” He remembered last night, Amon’s promise not to hurt him. That he wanted to protect him from the phantasm. But there was more. There had to be.

He weighed his options. Did he lie, refused to answer, or tell Elijah the truth? He tilted his head, yellow eyes gleaming in the darkness of the dungeon. His lips quirked into a mischievous smile. “You smell like a demon.”

Elijah frowned. “The phantasm?”

“No,” Amon said. “You smell like you’re part _something_.”

Elijah’s world started to spin. He shook his head. “No, I’m a human.”

“You sure about that?” Amon leered. “Were both your parents human?”

“My-my dad was human,” Elijah stammered.

“And your mother?”

Elijah didn’t answer. He hadn’t known her. His aunt said that she had ran off when he was born. His father had died with he was two, murdered in an alley after he was mugged. He shook his head, staring at his reflection in the blade of a sword on the wall. His aunt had never wanted to talk about his mother, wouldn’t even tell him her name. There were no photographs of her. He knew absolutely nothing.

“It’s not… it’s not possible…” he said softly.

“It’s certainly strange,” Amon said lightly. “Most half-breeds are born with the traits of their non-human parent. Some don’t start to show until they hit puberty. But you’re what, twenty-one? Twenty-two? And you’re still human-passing, and your scent is very… soft. Soft and sweet.” He growled low in his chest. “When I first smelled you, I wanted to find you, fuck you, and then kill you.”

Elijah whirled around to him. “Why do say shit like that? Is it a demon thing? You act all normal and then have to throw in some weird death-threat? Why can’t you just talk to me like a normal person?” His eyes stung with tears.

“But I’m not human,” Amon reminded him. “I’m a big bad demon.”

“Obviously you’re not all bad,” Elijah countered.

Amon’s tail snapped in the air. “What the fuck makes you say that?”

“Because you didn't hurt me last night, even if you wanted to,” he reminded the man. “You talked to me softly when I was scared. You ordered us food. You didn’t beat me. Yeah, you threatened me, but I think that’s just because you’re a dick who can’t express himself without having to show he’s a badass. And last night… you… you kept me safe. You said you wouldn’t hurt me and you held me against you.”

Amon blinked and leaned back in the chair. He stared at the halfling. He opened his mouth, but was at a loss for words. Behind him his tail snapped again. He wrinkled his nose and looked away. “We’re done talking.”

“I guess so,” Elijah murmured, turning to leave. He didn’t glance back as he headed up the stairs, closing the door behind him and turning the lock. The door to the gallery was open and he headed inside and found Frankie and Reuben sitting in the lounge area among Reuben’s most prized paintings. Once, two of Elijah’s paintings were displayed here. 

“We got breakfast,” Frankie said, gesturing to the spread on the coffee table. There were bagels and cream cheese, coffee, and frosted cookies. 

Elijah sat on the sofa with her. He reached spread cream cheese on a bagel and took a big bite before grabbing a coffee. After swallowing he turned to his friends and said, “So. I’m not human?”

Reuben choked on his coffee and Frankie dropped her bagel. “What?” they both stuttered.

“Amon said I’m a half-breed. That he can… can smell it on me. It’s true, isn’t it?” he asked as he stared down at his coffee. He bit his lip as he thought it over. “I guess… it kind of makes sense. I never really fit in anywhere…”

Frankie looked at Reuben and sighed. She leaned back and crossed her leg over her knee. “No, honey, you’re not human.”

“So what am I?” he asked, looking up.

“We don’t know,” Reuben said honestly. “Your… other half is hidden. At first I thought maybe it was being held back by some kind of binding spell, but it’s simply not true. Whatever you are, it’s buried so deep inside you that… the only thing that gives you away as a half-breed is your scent.”

“No, that’s not completely true,” Frankie said. “You’re art is a big sign.”

“How do you mean?” he asked.

“You’re obsessed with things Nordic and Greek,” she said. “You can paint landscapes that you’ve never seen. You’ve shown me sketches of fairies that you’ve seen out of the corner of your eye on the bus or when you’re driving. You’ve accurately drawn creatures that you’ve never even known to exist.”

Elijah sighed and shook his head. “I’m really tired. I’m going up to my studio, if that’s okay.”

Frankie tilted her head. “Would you rather I drive you home?”

“No,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t… I don’t want to be alone right now…”

“I understand,” Reuben said. “Go get some rest.”

…

He said he was tired, but truthfully he just needed time to process. His paints and brushes were at home so he opened the file cabinet for a sketchbook and pencils and went to sit in the floor in front of the big windows and in the sun. 

Elijah started to sketch. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised when he started to draw Amon’s demon face. His fierce eyes and gorgeous locks of braided hair. He shaded the horns and wondered how they would feel under his fingers. Pretty soon the entire page was sketches of the demon. Though he did reel in his self-restraint and didn’t draw him naked from the waist down. His arms and wide shoulders on the other hand were a treat.

And again he mourned that the demon was such an ass because he really wanted to paint him. He wondered if Reuben would pose for him with his wings displayed. Would Frankie let him paint her fierce eyes?

What was the Otherworld etiquette? Was it impolite to ask to see someone’s wings? What about their tail? Could you touch someone’s horns? Run your hands over their tattoos?

Elijah sighed. He needed to stop imagining the demon naked ASAP. He dropped the sketchbook and finally went to collapse on the sofa. But even though the sun was shining and his friends were just downstairs, he found he was afraid to close his eyes.

_You kill a phantasm after they possess their host. Or they kill the host._ Elijah winced. He was the host. He was the one who was going to die, one way or another.

He rolled over, face pressed into the cushion. There had to be another way. He couldn’t believe that in a world with so much magic that there was no way to catch and defeat a shadow monster.

“But are you sure you’ll die?”

Elijah sat up. He was no longer in his studio, but sitting in a meadow surrounded by trees and sunlight. He rubbed at his eyes before slowly standing. He tipped his head to the sky and saw a winged figure flying overhead “Who said that?”

“I did,” answered a masculine voice behind him.

Elijah turned. Behind him was a figure in a trench coat, with red eyes and surrounded by shadows. “You’re the phantasm.”

“I just want a little of your life force, Elijah. You have so much to give. A little bit won’t hurt you,” the man said with a cheshire grin that was all teeth.

He quickly shook his head and backed up. “No. You’re lying.”

“So you believe that Storm demon?” it asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he answered. He frantically looked around. Obviously he was in a dream. There had to be a way out; a way to wake himself up. He ran for the trees, but they never grew closer, only further away. Shadows blocked out the sun and the darkness closed in.

Above him lightning flashed. A horse squealed. He saw hoofprints in the mud.

“Don’t you want to know what you are?” the shadow creature asked sweetly. “I can tell you.”

He frowned. “How would you know, when no one else does?”

“Because I can taste it,” he purred as he prowled closer. Shadows moved around him like tentacles. “Because if you let me inside you, I can show you.”

“No,” he gasped. “I don’t want to find out that way.”

“Honestly Elijah, what choice do you have?” the shadow exclaimed as it dove at him. 

Elijah shrieked, throwing his hands up to shield himself. Darkness wrapped around his wrists and he was being jerked toward an open mouth filled with teeth. 

There was a flash of light and Elijah woke with a yell. The studio door burst open and Frankie ran in. Her eyes were bright and fiery and she held the long sword she had taken from Amon in her hand.

“Elly?” she gasped, “what is it?”

He leaned over on his knees, pale and nauseated. When he closed his eyes he saw rows of teeth and felt shadows crawling over his skin. He felt a pain in his stomach, a tightness in his chest. He shook his head. 

…

Amon stared up at the ceiling. Somewhere above him was Elijah, and he’d heard his screams. The demon bristled and pulled at the leather straps that secured him to the chair, but it was in the inscriptions that held him there. He snarled.

“Struggle all you want,” Reuben said as he set out Amon’s bags and weapons, “you’ll not free yourself.”

“Elijah is screaming,” he ground out. “Let me go to him.”

“Why the hell would I do that?” he snapped. He picked up a dagger and admired the carvings in the steel and the hilt.

“Because the phantasm will stay away as long as I’m with him,” he pointed out.

The large black man smirked. “Maybe if you hadn’t kidnapped him, we could discuss this. But now? No.”

Amon showed his teeth. “Like you gave me a chance. You’ve been sheltering him for years.”

“Protecting him,” Reuben corrected, “from creatures like you.”

Amon laughed. “Guaranteed that you have far more deaths on your hands than I do, Damned One.”

“I don’t do that anymore,” he ground out.

“No. You just live your life as a mortal, selling art and pretending that you belong,” he said. “How boring.”

Reuben huffed through his nose. “And now I remember why. You’re insufferable.”

Amon shrugged. “I’m a man of many gifts.”

“And not one of them will get you out of that chair.”

“Oh, I will get out. And I’ll take what’s mine.”

Reuben turned and stared at the demon. There was an intensity in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He frowned and shook his head. “I’ll not let you hurt that child.”

“If I wanted to hurt him, I would have already done it,” he pointed out.

Reuben turned away, heading back upstairs. “I’ll let you rot down here for the next thousand years, demon.”


	7. Blessed and Possessed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments <3 Sorry I haven't been around to reply back to you. I'm just going through a hard time, but I'm still trying to write. Thanks for keeping me inspired xoxo

“I can stay with you tonight if you want,” Frankie offered when Elijah said he was ready to go home. They had spent the day at the gallery, trying to figure out what to do about the phantasm. Reuben had books, and Frankie had made phone calls, but they hadn’t found any concrete way to stop the shadow creature. Everyone she talked to said simply that sooner or later, possession would happen. 

Elijah closed the giant book in his lap and turned to her. “Really?”

“Sleepover with my favorite boy? Hell yes I mean it,” the Furie chirped. “We can drink too much wine and trash talk Reuben.”

The big man groaned. “I’ve asked you three times to leave.”

“But I love ruffling your feathers.”

Elijah chuckled softly before he stood. He handed the large book back to the fallen before he crossed the gallery floor He stood, nervously twisting his hands together. “I want to… I’ll be right back.” Without looking back he headed for the basement. He hadn’t gone down there since that morning, but that didn’t mean the demon ever left his thoughts. It was almost like he could feel him, the harsh glow of his life force; as if they were tied together.

Every time he thought of him his heart beat a little harder, his hands even shook a little. And even though Elijah, by nature, had never been much of a sexual creature he couldn’t deny the warm feelings the demon gave him, deep in the bottom of his belly, to his groin and even the tips of his ears. 

He took a deep breath. He needed to calm his hormones and his feelings. Because Amon… this couldn’t happen. Elijah was feeling feelings he hadn’t felt since… ever. A hot desire, a need to be close to the demon. And the ache in his chest was like a hammering drum.

He quietly tiptoed down—

“Finally,” Amon sighed. “I thought you were going to avoid me all day. I’ve had the same shitty songs in my head for hours.”

Elijah tilted his head as he crossed the dungeon and leaned back against the wall. Amon was where he had left him, strapped to what looked like a torture chair. Seeing him without his glamor was still a bit of a shock, but certainly it wasn’t the typical shock reaction. Elijah didn’t find him repulsive or scary. He wished he did. “What songs?” he asked.

“You wouldn’t know them,” the demon said. “They aren’t mortal songs.” When he tilted his head the lights gleamed off his horns and lit a fire in his yellow eyes.

“Demons make music?” he asked and stepped closer.

“Why wouldn’t we?”

 _That’s true._ “Is it like, metal? Or maybe Celtic or folk music?”

Amon smiled. “Depends whose music it is.”

“I guess that makes sense,” he hummed.

“So why did you come back? Miss my pretty face?”

“I’m going home,” Elijah said. “Frankie is staying with me tonight.”

“You’ll sleep a lot better with me in your bed,” the demon growled.

Elijah blushed. “I’ll be fine.”

Amon’s smirk turned into a look of genuine concern. “I heard your screams earlier. It’s acting out. Don’t underestimate this thing, Elly. If it gets you into a weakened state and possesses you, you’ll die.”

He bit his lip. “Is that actual worry or are you hoping I’ll be dumb enough to free you?”

“Both,” he said. “Why should I lie?”

“Why worry at all?” he asked. “You can’t be that interested in me anymore. I’m a half-breed of unknown origin.”

Amon’s tail snapped and he grumbled a soft growl. “You wouldn’t think so,” he muttered to himself. He looked at the young halfling again and his heart pounded and his chest ached. “But clearly something is pulling us together.” 

Elijah looked at the floor as his heart start to pound. He closed his eyes. “Frankie is waiting for me,” he said. “I should go.”

“Will you come back?” Amon asked, hating how eager he sounded.

“No,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t.” Every moment around Amon felt like a ticking time bomb. He felt like one of the women in the romance novels he had read. Uncontrollable urges, lust, a burning desire he didn’t understand.

Amon’s nose wrinkled. “It’s that easy, huh?”

“Didn’t say it was,” he replied. He stepped close to the demon, and, trusting him not to bite, leaned into kiss his cheek. “Bye Amon.”

The demon didn’t reply, his tail didn’t even snap, he just watched silently as the human walked away. When the dungeon door banged closed and locked he let out a rumbling snarl.

It wasn’t going to end here. There was a connection between them and he needed more of it. The soft touch of Elijah’s lips had had sent a jolt through him unlike anything he had ever felt before. And it had been the most chaste kiss in his entire life. Desire grew inside him, a whirlwind of heat and need, and he knew the only way to quench it was to get Elijah on his back.

He growled again, the sound sending vibrations through the walls.

Upstairs Elijah stopped to rub his eyes. Saying goodbye to Amon _hurt_ and he didn’t know why. The decision hadn’t come easy. But seeing Amon was like a drug. The more he looked at him and smelled him, the more he wanted to be around him. He had to put a stop to it, before he did something incredibly stupid. Like free him.

Or crawl naked into his lap.

“Shit,” he sighed. Where has these feelings come from? Why were they there? 

“Ready, honey?” Frankie asked.

“Hm? Oh yeah,” he said. His Jeep was where he had left it after his abduction. “I’ll meet you at my place.”

He turned the music up, hoping to drown out his thoughts and feelings he had about the demon, but all he did was wonder what kind of music Amon liked. What kind of music did demons make? Was it flute music? Or metal? Did they have electric guitars or just fiddled and bagpipes? 

The image of Amon, on stage in leather with a guitar popped into his head and Elijah nearly rear-ended the car in front of him. He pinched the bridge of his nose and then pinched himself until he winced in pain. He needed to get his shit together. 

He found a spot close to his building and started walking. It didn’t surprise him to see that Frankie had snagged a spot just in front of it apartment building.

“Is that another thing Furies can do?” he teased, “get all the best parking spots?”

“That’s just talent,” she laughed.

As they walked together she said to him, “Why did you want to see that demon again?”

He felt his face flush and he swallowed hard. “I um,” he started. Where to begin? Did it even make sense? When they were alone in the elevator he said, “I was saying goodbye.”

Frankie looked at him, equal parts curious and disturbed. “Why?”

“Because,” he huffed, irritated with himself, “I find myself, um, really attracted to him? And-and I shouldn’t be. And so I said I wouldn’t see him again.”

Frankie was sympathetic. “Okay Elly. I think Reuben and I may have beat the demons-are-bad into your head a little too much. This isn’t like in the movies. And Amon is fucking hot, I don’t blame you at all.”

Elijah unlocked the door and let them into the apartment. “So me thinking he’s gorgeous is okay?”

“Honey, if he hadn’t kidnapped you I would have fucked him in that dungeon on that altar,” she laughed.

Elijah turned bright red. “S-seriously?”

“Mm-hm,” she purred. “Big demons make the best lovers. They’re huge, they’re strong, and when you lick their horns—“

“You _lick_ them?”

“Oh yeah,” she purred, “they’re full of nerves. Lick one and the demon’ll melt in your hands. Most horns are for display only, like to attract a mate. Not saying they aren’t dangerous, and some secrete venom, bust mostly they’re there to impress.”

“So it’s…. fine?” he asked. He had noticed that Amon had put a couple gold bands in his horns. Was it to add to the appeal? He bit his lip. “That I think he’s sexy?”

“Yeah—“ she stopped in front of the easel and the painting Elijah had done says earlier. “Holy. Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, half-expecting the painting to be vandalized, but instead found it just as he left it. But when he realized what she was staring at, he gasped. “I… I never saw his tattoos before last night.”

“Yet you somehow painted them perfectly,” she murmured, staring at him. 

Elijah but his lip. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” she said, “but we need to get drunk ASAP.”

“I don’t have anything,” he admitted.

“Okay. I’ll run to the market, you shower and get comfortable and pick out something to watch on Netflix. We’ll Netflix and Chill.”

He laughed quietly. “You got it.”

After she left, he put the canvas and paints away and went to shower. He pulled off his shirt and paused, looking at his reflection. He looked thinner than he had. He frowned and ran his hands through his curly hair before turning slightly. On his left upper arm he had a tattoo: a Nordic shield knot. It was dark brown in color and was his graduation gift to himself from high school.

He touched it and thought of Amon’s tattoos on his shoulder and arm. He closed his eyes, conjuring up the memory of last night when he woke in Amon’s arms. He remembered the way the demon had promised to protect him. That he had kept him safe, and that Elijah had in fact, felt safe. That was strange, wasn’t it? Now he realized that he had been dreaming of the demon for months. Now the faceless, protective shadow had a face. 

Elijah showered and pulled on his favorite pajama pants and a light long-sleeved shirt. Frankie was back in the apartment by then, with a couple bottles of wine, a snack tray, and a meat and cheese platter from the grocery store. Elijah grabbed extra pillows and blankets and the two settled on the floor together in front of the television.

But Elijah didn’t feel like watching the movie Frankie had picked out, and he could tell that she didn’t either. So finally he turned to her, “I want to know more about the Otherworld.”

Frankie smiled. She had dropped her glamor upon entering the apartment and she tilted her head. Her eyes were a bright, fierce orange and her ears sleek and pointed. “Ask away.”

“I know you’re a Furie, but you look like a elf or a fairy,” Elijah said. “From like, children’s stories.”

“Many species share similarities, most especially the larger demon species,” she explained. “But Furie, Fey, Valkyrie, we’re all cousins cut from the same immortal tree. We’re children of different gods but the All Tree birthed us all.”

Elijah blinked before he jumped to his feet. He retrieved an older sketchbook and before sitting down next to her again. After flipping through it to a specific page he held up the book.

Frankie stared at the drawing. It was a enormous tree that made up the universe. Tangled in its branches were planets and galaxies nestled in leaves and carved into the bark were doors to other worlds. She sat back in surprise.

“Honey, what are you?” she sighed. 

He set the book down in his lap. “I wish I knew. I always just thought it was my imagination.”

“No, definitely not just your imagination,” Frankie said. “Normally half-breed children start to show at puberty if they aren’t born with obvious non-human features. And if not, then certainly once they’re grown, right before they’re froze into immortality. But you’re still mortal. You’re also only twenty-two so it’s possible that you could still change.”

He flipped through the book. “What do you mean? Frozen?”

“Well,” she said as she finished her wine and poured another glass, “immortals that are born the natural way grow at the same rate as mortals, but when we are fully grown and at our peak we freeze into immortality. Some species no longer require food, some don’t need to sleep. Others still do. It’s different for all of us.”

Elijah stared down at the drawing of a pegasus standing in a lake. “So I could still… come out?”

“Maybe,” she said. 

“Amon is obsessed with how I smell,” he said. “What do I smell like?”

“To me you just smell like Elijah,” she answered. “Human and some old magic. But Amon is an alpha demon, he must smell something deeper. Truthfully, honey, I can’t explain why he’s so obsessed with you.”

“I’ve been dreaming about him,” Elijah confessed. “Long before this whole thing started. Way… longer…” he had flipped to sketch of the demon’s tattoos, dated three years prior.

Frankie pursed her lips. Storm demons didn’t have destined mates. But… whatever Elijah was must, because the two of them were obviously tied together. If they were fated to be together then nothing would stop it.

 _Why did it have to be that giant ass?_ Amon had a reputation. He was violent, aggressive, and ever since he had been brought out of his banishment had been killing enemies right and left. He liked to fuck hard and didn’t stay around for the afterglow. He was not a good match for Elijah.

The fates had a sense of humor. A sick one.

“Frankie?” he asked. “What does it mean?”

“I don’t know,” she said. Without knowing what Elijah was, she wasn’t going to bring up the idea that Amon was his mate. Instead she said, “If you’re up for it, I’ll take you to an Otherkin bar some night.”

“Is that safe?” he asked in surprise.

“Honey, with me you’re always safe.” She grinned, showing her fangs. “No one messes with a Furie.”

He smiled nervously. It would be neat, albeit terrifying. He wondered if he could draw the creatures there. He looked back down at his sketchbook, which was covered in sketches of winged horses. “Have you ever seen a Pegasus?”

“No. They went extinct centuries ago,” she said. “The day the last winged horse died the world lost a lot of magic.”

“Extinct?” he gaped, “ho-how is that possible? That’s so horrible. How did it happen?”

“There was a demon warlord,” she said softly. “A real monster. He was called Skoll.”

Elijah frowned. “I’ve heard that name before.”

“Well, you’ve read about every myth and legend ever, nerd, so I would imagine,” she said with a smile. “He was the hunter of the great sun chariot. He thought if he killed all the flying horses that he could kill the sun. It didn’t work out for him.”

“Where is he now?”

“He was defeated years ago in a great battle against the Valkyrie and the berserkers. He hasn’t been seen since.”

Elijah gulped down his wine. “So he’s not dead?”

“They didn’t cut off his head,” she explained. “It’s the only sure way to kill any immortal. There are other ways but they vary from species to species.”

Who could slaughter a flying horse? Just thinking about it made him want to cry. He sighed and set the sketchbook off to the side. Sickness and anxiety churned in his stomach and he reached for his wine glass.

“Any other questions?” Frankie asked.

“Millions,” Elijah said with a smile. “But I’m feeling pretty tired. It’s been a long day…”

“Well, let’s snuggle up and watch this trashy movie,” she suggested.

Later that night, after polishing off all the wine and snacks, Frankie crashed on the couch and Elijah in bed. The Furie, even slightly inebriated, still woke to the slightest change in the air. She opened her eyes, which glowed in the dark, and reached for the knife that was always strapped to her thigh.

Slowly she sat up. There was a cold, dank scent, and she followed it to the bedroom. She could hear Elijah before she opened the bedroom door.

He was attempting to thrash on the bed, as if suffering from a nightmare, but was being pinned down. She could see the darkened shadows and she heard a tapping in the walls. No wonder Elijah looked like a zombie. Phantasms caused extreme sleep deprivation and sometimes insanity.

“Get out,” She snarled. She stepped into the room and felt the air move. On the bed Elijah let out a whine. She went to the bed just as a shadow darted off it and onto the wall, before fading through the window. Elijah sat up, gasping for breath and stinking of sweat. His eyes turned to her and he frowned in surprise.

Frankie sighed. “It’s just me.”

Elijah stared at her, his vision adjusting to the darkness. He rubbed his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Your couch sucks,” she said as she dropped into the bed. 

“R-right…” Elijah sighed as he sat there, shaking. He looked at his wrists which were red and starting to bruise from being pressed into the mattress. He sniffled and reached for the box of tissues on the nightstand and wiped his eyes before he could start to cry. “Last night it didn’t bother me at all.” 

Frankie, looked up at him from where she lay. “Seriously?”

“Amon said he would keep it away, and he did,” Elijah whispered. He finally laid down and closed his eyes as a tear slipped down his face. “I wish he was here now.”

Frankie sighed and threaded her fingers through his damp hair. If they didn’t figure something out soon, Elijah was going to die. If she hadn’t been here tonight the phantasm may have taken him. It was acting desperate, and especially aggressive. Was it because of Amon? Could the demon seriously keep Elijah safe?

“I’ll keep you safe tonight,” she promised. “Try to get some sleep.”

…

Frankie woke the second Elijah left the bed. It was only four in the morning. He couldn’t have slept more than two hours. “Where are you going?”

Elijah froze in the doorway. “I can’t sleep. I was going to make some coffee and maybe paint… I’m sorry I woke you.”

She sat up. “You need to sleep more.”

“I can’t,” he sighed.

Frankie sat up, brow furrowed in thought. Amon. Goddamnit. “I’m going to use your shower then we’re going to to the gallery.”

“Why?” he asked as he leaned in the doorway.

“I need to talk to Reuben and you’re coming along,” she said. 

Elijah moved and let the woman pass by him for the bathroom. He went to the kitchen and started the coffee and stood at the kitchen window, staring outside. He opened it, letting in some cool, morning air. Birds were starting their early morning song. The sky was still dark but he could see the stars starting to fade. He sighed.

Once the coffee was made the two headed to the gallery. Frankie had text Reuben and he met them there. Elijah stood fidgeting as Frankie grabbed the large man and dragged him toward the office. The door closed behind him.

He thought about going up to his studio, he had lingering nightmares on his mind and wanted to get them out and out on canvas. He’d discovered that if he painted his dreams, they didn’t haunt him as much.

However… he looked to the dungeon door. Elijah bit his lip and closed his eyes. When he inhaled he could smell Amon down there. His scent was… heady and earthy, and strangely, warm. Like dark cinnamon coffee. He bit his lip and glanced toward the office before he tried the door.

Elijah supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised when it easily opened. He tiptoed down the dark stairs.

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” the demon rumbled.

The lights were off, the candles extinguished, and all Elijah could see were the demon’s glowing eyes. He sucked in a surprised break. “Amon?” he asked.

The demon sighed. “Yes. Who else would be strapped to this damn chair?”

Elijah groped for a light switch, but when he couldn’t find one, he instead used the light on his cell phone. Amon tilted his head. 

“You look awful,” the demon said with a worried frown.

“I know,” he whispered.

“Elijah, that thing isn’t going to stop. Let me go and I’ll keep you safe.”

“I won’t,” he sighed tiredly. He walked across the dungeon, staring at the altar. A shiver rushed up his spine. Frankie had said if Amon hadn’t been such an ass that she would have had sex with him right there. It was a titillating thought. But he was too tired to even entertain the imagery. He rubbed his eyes.

Something slid along his wrist and he jerked his hand away and yelped.

Amon snorted. “Calm down, halfling.”

“Oh,” he said with a blush as Amon’s tail wrapped around his wrist and gently tugged. He stepped closer to the chair. “What do you want?”

“Mm, all kinds of things,” the demon said. “But right now? To keep you safe.”

Elijah rolled his eyes. “I told you, I won’t let you go. I don’t even know how…” Amon tugged again and Elijah easily dropped into his lap.

“Take a nap,” Amon encouraged. “I won’t bite.”

“Why do you care so much?” He asked sleepily. He couldn’t deny that the demon was warm and comfortable. He leaned against Amon’s wide chest and let his eyes close.

It frustrated Amon to no end that he was strapped down and couldn’t hold Elijah like he wanted. He bowed his head, nuzzling through the halfling’s curly hair. “Because I care about you.”

“That’s stupid,” Elijah sighed. “We don’t even know each other.”

It was true, he may have been looking for Elijah for years but that didn’t mean he knew him. But in their short time together he had learned a lot about him. “We could remedy that,” he said, keeping his voice quiet, hoping the halfling would sleep.

“Hm,” he hummed. “Like a date? Do I bring take-out since you’re trapped in a dungeon?”

He laughed. “We could try that,” he said, “or maybe I can convince that angel to release me.”

Elijah was quiet for a moment. “I think that’s why we’re here.”

“How do you mean?” Amon asked.

“Something happened last night, with the phantasm, and it kind of spooked Frankie. She dragged me here this morning only to grab Reuben and go into his office to talk privately.”

“What happened last night?” he asked.

“It was there,” Elijah explained. “Doing all the things it had done before to keep me awake or drive me crazy. But there was something else… I felt… like it was touching me. It held me down”

Amon growled. “As soon as I’m out of this chair I’m going to stay with you until I know how to kill it.”

Around him shadows moved and thickened suddenly. The air temperature dropped and Elijah shivered. Amon straightened up. He may have kept the phantasm away the other night, but he hadn’t been restrained. “Elijah, you need to go upstairs.”

The urgency and aggression in the demon’s voice had Elijah sitting straight up. He blinked and looked around at the darkness. When he lifted his cell phone and turned on the flashlight, the light was immediately swallowed.

“Amon…” he hissed as he stood. “It...it’s…”

“Elijah?” Amon asked. He turned his head as the shadows started to close in around them. He snarled and started to thrash against the chair. “It’s fucking here--” But the chair’s bindings were unbreakable, and he could only watch as the shadows taunted him, and circled the halfling. 

“I don’t…” Elijah gasped before he swayed and fell, crumpling to the ground and knocking his head on the stone floor.

“Elijah!?” he yelled. The halfling’s phone had turned off on impact but the demon could see well in the dark. His tail lashed and tried to reach the human who was motionless on the ground. The shadows were seeping into Elijah’s skin, bruising it and draining him of all color. “Reuben! Motherfucker get down here!” he roared.

Not two seconds later the door flew open and the torches lit as Frankie leaped down the stairs, cracking the stone beneath her feet. Behind her Reuben followed with his wings unfolded from his back. When they saw Elijah on the ground they both immediately turned to Amon.

“I didn’t do anything you morons,” he snarled. Elijah was shaking with every breath and there was blood smeared on the ground from his head wound.

“What happened?” Frankie hissed.

“The phantasm is here,” Amon snarled. “Let me go! I can help him!”

Reuben scooped the young human up all laid him on the altar. He had a horrible cut on his forehead and blood had smeared down his face and into his hair. But more alarming was the was a dark energy amassing inside him. His skin was cold to the touch and nearly translucent, and his eyes were moving frantically beneath closed eyelids. 

“No one can help him now,” Reuben rumbled. He touched Elijah’s forehead, smoothing his hair out of his face. He could feel the halfling’s fear and pain. It made his wings sag to the ground. “It has him.”

Frankie stood on the other side of the altar, her hand grasping Elijah’s. She shook her head. “No, it can’t. This can’t be happening.”

Amon’s tail snapped. “Release me! I can help him!” But his words only seemed to urge the phantasm on, for Elijah started to thrash and dark shapes moved beneath his skin. Blood leaked from his closed eyes and he struggled to breathe. The sound made Amon’s stomach turn.

On the altar Elijah’s eyes opened, but they were black. A deep, guttural laugh rumbled from his chest. “Too late. All… mine now…” rasped a voice not the halfling’s. Elijah’s body shook. “So… much… power…”

Frankie growled, her eyes flashing colors. “Get out of him!”

The building started to shake and Reuben stepped back, his wings flared out in alarm. He pressed his hand on the possessed human’s chest. “I command you to leave.”

“You… hold no… power over me,” laughed the phantasm with Elijah’s face. “Nothing…you can do. The power… the power!”

Thunder rumbled and the building shook again. Frankie stepped back with a frown. “This isn’t normal.”

Amon growled for attention. “Goddamnit release me!”

Reuben, finally paying the demon attention, turned and waved his hand over the bindings. With a crackle of magic the straps fell away and Amon shot out of the chair. Reuben was turning to console the demon, but found to his shock that Amon was leaning over Elijah with an expression of pure panic.

“Elijah?” Amon pleaded, hating how desperate he sounded. But that’s exactly how he felt: desperate. The phantasm stared at him with black, blank eyes. Elijah’s face was contorted with pain and was smeared with blood. He was shrinking away before his eyes. Amon shook his head and bellowed.

“Elijah!” he shouted as he grabbed Elijah’s shoulders and shook him. “Fight back! There is power inside of you, you know there is. Use it! Force the fucker out!”

“Amon…” Frankie shook her head as tears filled her eyes. “You know it’s impossible…”

“It’s not!” he yelled. “I didn’t come all this way, I didn’t track him for the last three years just to lose him. Elijah, you can do this. I know you can. Grab that power inside you. Use it!”

The building started to shake in earnest. Dust fell from the ceiling and above them artwork clattered to the floor from their displays. Amon leaned over the struggling halfling, whose breath was a harsh wheeze.

Black eyes stared at him. “Mine,” gasped the phantasm.

“He’s fucking not,” Amon insisted. He shook him again, only to receive a shock. He fell onto the floor with a grunt of pain, his hands tingling and red. He felt a swell of power in the room; it built and built.

“The fuck is going on?” the Furie yelled.

Reuben turned, grabbing her and wrapping her in his wings. Amon dove behind a giant pillar just as there was an explosion of white light and lightning. Heat seared Reuben’s feathers and blistered the skin on his back, but Amon, despite lightning passing through him, remained unharmed.

There was an ungodly shriek and the building shook with impact. Then the light was gone and the lightning faded with a rumble of thunder. Tentatively Amon looked around the pillar.

On the wall was a scorched shadow. The phantasm.

On the table was Elijah. Amon stood and gaped at him. The lightning had burned away his clothing and he was naked and soft and covered in sweat. His eyes were closed, his mouth open to reveal little fangs. His hair was swept back to show delicate pointed ears. His nails had curled into claws and were sank deep into the altar. Any injuries were healed and any sign of the shadow monster gone.

Amon stepped back. Next to him Reuben and Frankie stepped up.

“Now we know what he is,” Reuben said as he inspected his damaged wings.

“Fucking Valkyrie.”

…

Amon inhaled. Elijah’s scent was completely changed. It was still soft and sweet, but now it was overlapping with electric power and ancient bloodlines. He slowly approached him again, tail swaying behind him nervously.

“I didn’t realize Valkyrie could birth sons,” he heard Frankie say.

“There were always rumors,” Reuben said quietly. “They are… rare doesn’t even describe.”

Amon, carefully, pried Elijah’s clawed hands from stone and the gathered him into his arms. He was warm, and his breaths even. When Amon held him the halfling curled into his chest.

“I’m taking him,” he said, eyes not leaving Elijah’s face.

“The fuck you are,” Frankie snapped.

“Are Furies and Valkyrie not in the middle of a turf war?” Amon snapped back. “You think I’d leave him with you?”

She shook her head in shock. “I would never hurt him,” she growled. “He’s going to have a lot of questions when he wakes up and you’re not equipped to answer them.”

“I agree with the Furie,” Reuben said. “Let’s take him up to the lounge.”

Amon grunted. He had no way out of here, and he couldn’t escape without hurting Elijah. He followed them up to the gallery lounge where he laid the halfling down on the plush sofa. His eyes raked over Elijah’s supple body, now filled out and healthy. He groaned. 

“Back off you horny bastard,” Frankie scolded as she appeared with a blanket. She tucked it around Elijah and sat down on the sofa with him. “Make yourself useful and go help Reuben clean up the gallery.”

Amon grunted. “What? Why would I do that?”

“Maybe it’ll help work off that boner you have going,” she said, staring pointedly at the bulge in his pants.

He blushed and stomped loudly away. He found the fallen angel as he hung a large canvas back on the wall. With a grunt he turned and started to do the same. Working together they had the gallery back together in no time.

“So it was the phantasm who destroyed Elijah’s paintings,” Frankie summarized as she watched Elijah sleep. “He was having dreams of his ancestors which the phantasm turned into nightmares. He painted to relieve the pain and so it just… destroyed it all.”

“It’s dead now,” Reuben said. “Nothing can recover from that.”

Amon rip in his shirt where the lightning had passed through him. He looked at the halfling and felt his heart start to pound. Now that he knew that he was, and his scent was heavy in the air, he felt even more drawn to him. Elijah was a classic omega demon: delicate, soft, very appealing. But he was also a Valkyrie, deadly and dangerous, with a gift for lightning. A male Valkyrie. When was the last time one of those had been seen in the Otherworld?

Others would want him. The Furie clan might want to use him in their war. The Valkyrie clan might reject him and try to kill him. No wonder his powers had been so constrained. Had his mother done that to him? Had it been a spell?

He rubbed his head. Shit. He’d come here to find the source that had been pulling at him. When he’d found it he had thought of either killing Elijah (a thought that had left his mind the second it got there,) fucking him just to get it out of his system (which he still wanted to do,) or kidnapping him (which hadn’t worked out well.)

“What do we do now?” he finally asked.

“Get him drunk,” Frankie suggested.

“That’s your solution for everything,” Reuben complained.

“I agree,” Amon said. He could really use some demon grog right now. 

“Elijah can’t go out without glamor,” Reuben warned. “He needs to hide his features and his scent.”

“I dunno…” Frankie sighed as she pushed a lock of curly hair behind his pointed ear. “He’s so cute. I want to eat him up.”

Both turned to Amon, who had let out a low growl. 

Frankie smiled coyly. “Something wrong, demon?”

Amon cleared his throat. “No.”

“Mm-hm,” She hummed. “Look here alpha. This boy is my friend. He’s still mortal. He’s sweet and pure. If you do anything to hurt him, _anything,_ I will hang your spine over my fireplace, do you understand? I know all about you, Amon. The immortals and mortals you’ve killed. This halfling is not here for you to tear to pieces.”

Amon bared his fangs. “Do you really think I would do that?”

“In a heartbeat.”

He looked at Elijah. Anyone else, he may have. No, he would have. He would have ruined him, made him bleed, made him beg. But now? He stood and snapped his tail.

“I’m leaving,” he snarled.

“Good riddance!” Frankie called after him. She watched as Amon applied his glamor spell and headed out into the bright morning. With him gone, Reuben went to work in his office, leaving Frankie alone with Elijah.

She sighed and combed her fingers through his soft hair. “Honey, why a damn Valkyrie?”

Frankie combed her fingers through the young halfling’s hair. She had never heard of Valkyrie having predestined mates before, then again she also didn’t know a lot about them. But it seemed very reasonable to assume that Amon was in fact, Elijah’s mate. She hummed softly.

“Could be worse, I guess,” she said quietly to herself. Amon was big, protective, and an asshole, but she saw the way his features softened around Elijah. She had seen the fear in his eyes when the boy had nearly died. She smirked. Maybe they needed to test that bond. How hard could she push the alpha demon before he snapped and claimed Elly for himself?

She grinned wickedly and started to play through ideas in her head.

A short time later Elijah yawned softly before his eyes fluttered open. His lashes were dark and thick, framing in crystal clear blue eyes that nearly glowed. When he saw Frankie looking down at him he blinked.

“Where are we?” he asked. He sat up, only to grab the blanket. “Why am I naked? Why are we here? Wh-what happened?”

“Let’s get you a mirror.”


	8. Wooden Pints

So the phantasm was dead.

Apparently Elijah had erupted into a ball of lightning and burned it out.

And Amon had been there, screaming at him to fight back.

Now he was a fully-fleshed out halfling. He had pointed ears, little fangs, crazy blue eyes, and nails that could curl into claws. Oh, and he had filled out. He had been underweight before, but now he was healthy. He was… he was pretty.

Elijah opened his mouth and tipped his head back to look at his fangs. They were purely for self-defense and for display. He didn’t drink blood like a vampire. His claws could cut through stone. But he was still mortal. He had a few more years of growing to do before he became immortal, which meant he could still be hurt, killed, sickened, and poisoned.

Elijah wrinkled his nose at his reflection. He was still at the gallery. Frankie had gone to get him some clothes, since he had incinerated his, along with his wallet and cell phone. 

His reflection had creeped him out at first. He wasn’t used to looking the way it did. It was like someone had photoshopped him, or used a great deal of makeup.

He looked at his hand and twitched his fingers. Little sparks crawled across his palm. _I’m like Thor or something._

Elijah giggled. What a stupid idea. He turned his hand over and the sparks stopped. Frankie had told him that he needed to practice with his powers, so when the day came he would need to use them for self-defence, he could. And she had cryptically stressed that yes, that day would come. He closed his hand into a fist and looked at his reflection again. He was a rarity, an anomaly; nothing in his life would be easy ever again.

There was a knock at the bathroom door. “Got your clothes,” Frankie called.

He unlocked it and took the bag from her. He pulled on socks, and jeans that were a little tight (he’d been underweight for a while now,) and the hoodie which now fit just right instead of being oversized. He pulled on his sneakers and the headed out. He stopped quick, feet sliding on the stone floors of the gallery.

Amon stood there. His glamor melted away to reveal the demon beneath. His yellow eyes were fierce, and clutched in his hand was a take-out bag. The demon stared at him, nostrils flaring, and taking a deep breath.

_Holy shit_ did Amon smell good, so good in fact that Elijah stood completely unmoving for a few seconds, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. The Storm demon’s scent was heavy and warm and… sexy. A heavy, powerful scent that had his heart pounding Elijah blushed, and to his surprise, so did the demon.

Amon’s tail flicked before he offered him the bag. “Here.”

Frankie stood nearby, a smirk on her face. Alpha demons were instinctively compelled to take care of omegas they were drawn to. She had worried that Amon had lost all his instincts while being banished for a thousands years, but apparently not. She bounced happily on her toes.

Elijah reached for the bag but didn’t step closer to the demon. He opened it; there was a gourmet sandwich, homemade potato chips, and a large cookie from the fancy, very expensive cafe down the street.

“Thank you,” he said. “Um, you didn’t need to.”

“It’s fine,” Amon grunted. He was very much aware that the damn Furie was standing just out of sight, smirking at him. “After what happened you need to replenish your energy.”

“Okay,” he said. Elijah shifted nervously before stepping back. “I’m going up to my studio. Uh—“ Amon had followed his steps. _I guess he’s coming with._

“Shout if you need me, honey,” Frankie called after him.

Elijah glanced back at the demon after he unlocked the studio door and let them inside. Sunlight lit the small room and Elijah went to sit on the floor in front of the window. Amon sat on the loveseat. Elijah, as he laid the food out in front of him, glanced at the demon.

“Frankie says you helped save me,” he said. 

Amon, hands resting on his splayed knees and back straight, frowned. Had she really? Furies were so complicated. Did she want him to stay away from Elijah or not? Or maybe it was just females. Probably both.

“I didn’t really do anything,” he said. Just panicked and yelled a lot.

Elijah picked up half of the sandwich and offered it to the demon. He saw Amon’s tail twitch before he stood and joined him on the floor in the sunlight. He accepted the food.

“Well, thank you anyway,” Elijah said before taking a bite. “Mm!” It was a heavy herb and cheese bread, with bacon, turkey, roast beef and pepper jack cheese. 

Amon pursed his lips before muttering “you’re welcome” and taking a large bite. He watched Elijah as he ate and gazed out the window. Everything about him was stunning. His eyes, his little fangs, and delicately pointed ears that he wanted to kiss. Valkyrie usually had eyes that were shades of blue or grey, but Elijah’s were the bluest and brightest he had ever seen. Their ears were shorted than Furies and especially shorter than a Fey’s. Like other Valkyrie he was petite and short, but Amon had seen a Valkyrie lift a boulder and toss it one-handed, so he knew there was nothing weak about them. Looks were very deceiving in the Otherworld.

“So did the Furie fill you in on everything?” he asked after finishing his half of the sandwich in two bites.

“Pretty much,” Elijah said. “My mother was a Valkyrie. She probably put a spell on me to keep me hidden because I’m apparently a rarity in your world. I have to learn a couple basic spells and that I can summon lightning like Thor.”

Amon laughed, deep and rumbling. Elijah stared at him. The demon’s face completely changed when he laughed. He had little wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and his teeth didn’t look nearly as threatening. It was a very good look for him. Again Elijah wished he had a paper and pencil in front of him.

“I know, I’m a nerd.”

Amon had been around long enough to know that Elijah meant the comic book hero Thor more than the actual Norse god. He shook his head. “You’re a strange little thing.”

“Says the demon.” He broke the large cookie in half and offered it. When Amon accepted it, he smiled. “She also said that my paintings were some kind of… look into the past. That I’d been painting other Valkyrie without knowing it. She thinks that maybe my mother was… clairvoyant.”

Amon hummed as he thought it all over. “I saw one of your destroyed paintings, the one with the ship. At first I thought it was just a Viking ship but I realize now it was a Valkyrie war ship. It’s possible that you have a piece of your mother’s power.”

“I’ve been dreaming about a woman on that ship,” he said quietly. “I think… I think it’s my mother.”

Amon tilted his head. “You said you never knew her.”

“No. But when I dream of her, I feel this ache inside of me. I know it’s her. She was in armor and pregnant, leading a ship into war.”

“Most Valkyrie were warriors,” he said. “Fierce and unstoppable.”

Elijah smiled a bit sadly. “Something stopped her though.”

“Even immortals can die,” Amon said. After some hesitation he rested his hand on Elijah’s back. “I’m sure she would have never left you if she had been given the choice.”

Elijah hoped that was true. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. Only to freeze when Amon’s hand slid from his back to his neck. Then he was brushing Elijah’s hair away from his ear and touching it. He delicately touched the pointed tip, and brushed over Elijah’s multiple piercings.

He shivered. “What are you doing?”

Amon grunted and pulled his hand away. “Nothing.”

Elijah looked up at him. His eyes traveled up to Amon’s horns. Now that he knew what they were for, he couldn’t stop looking at them. He wanted to… see them up close. They were beautiful, works of art all on their own. He fidgeted. “Hey, um.”

“Hm?” Under the stare of those blue eyes the demon felt weak.

“Your horns…” he started while chewing his lower lip, “can I… I mean. Never mind.”

Amon realized with a start that Elijah wanted to _touch_ his horns. Slowly he bowed his head. His heart hammered in his chest before Elijah even moved closer. He knew he shouldn’t do this. His horns were very sensitive, but they were there to attract a mate and… Elijah…

Elijah leaned up on his knees and slowly closed the space between them. He avoided the very tip, which looked sharp, and instead touched the shiny black ridges.

Amon sucked in a breath. This was definitely a bad idea. He was iron hard instantly and Elijah was leaning into his body, and he smelled… The demon closed his eyes and bit off a groan.

“They’re so smooth,” Elijah said softly. He delicately pet his fingers down the ridges, fingers curling around it. He touched the heavy gold band that had been placed over one of the horns. Then he threaded his fingers through the demon’s hair. Over heavy braids and soft locks. He hummed. 

Amon meanwhile felt like he was in hell. He curled his nails into his thighs to keep from grabbing Elijah and throwing him to the floor. To make it worse the Valkyrie was now touching his hair, leaning against his shoulder, covering him with his sweet smell. His tail wrapped around his bicep and he squeezed hard, struggling to maintain still.

Just before his self-control snapped, Elijah leaned away and sat back down. _Thank hell, shit!_ Amon didn’t care that he had a hard-on, and that Elijah noticed and blushed. He cleared his throat and looked away.

“So um,” Elijah said, looking away, “your horns are sensitive, huh?”

“To say the least,” Amon said, voice deep and gravelly.

_Obviously. Just how big is that thing?_ He reached for a handful of potato chips and shoved them in his mouth. After a few moments he glanced back at the big demon, who was gazing out the window. The sunlight was gleaming off his horns and his yellow eyes. His skin looked flushed; did he blush blue? He smiled.

“So, I guess you know now? Are you disappointed?” Elijah asked, needing to change the subject away from horns and ears to something less… sensitive.

Amon looked at him, brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“You said you wanted to find out what I was,” he explained, “when you kidnapped me. Now you know.”

“Right… Right,” he answered. He tapped his tail on the floor. 

“So?” Elijah pressed. “Now that you know, what are you going to do? You’re still hanging around…”

Amon had been thinking about that from the moment he’d seen Elijah on the altar. He thought that once he found out what the halfling was that the ache would go away. But it was stronger than ever, and now it was backed up by the power of boners. 

Silence stretched between them and Elijah shifted from where he sat near the demon. “Amon?”

“I think I’ll stick around,” he finally answered. “I’ll need to find a new place to stay first. Since your friends had to had to forcibly evict me from my hotel room.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a place. Most places are cheap and—oh my god,” he yelped. “My job! I’ve missed work!”

Amon frowned when Elijah shot to his feet. His tail whipped out to grab his slender wrist. “Hang on there, Elijah. You can’t just go back there.”

His eyes were wide and his pulse quick. “I have to, okay, or I won’t make rent.”

“Look at yourself.”

“My-my ears aren’t noticeable,” he reasoned, “and my fangs are little and my eyes… contacts. It’ll be fine.”

Amon tilted his head. “And the rest of you?”

Elijah looked down at himself. “Um.”

“Yeah, um,” Amon said. He slid his tail away and he replaced it with his hand, sliding it along Elijah’s. “You’ll need to find something else. Until then maybe… I can help.”

He squinted at him suspiciously. “How?”

“I’ll stay with you and help pay rent,” he suggested.

Elijah barked a laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”

Amon pulled his hand back and frowned. “Why is that funny?”

“You want me to rent my couch out to you?” He giggled as he sat down again. “Seriously? Okay first, you’re way too tall and wouldn’t fit, and two, hello, you did kidnap me.”

“But I didn’t hurt you,” he argued. “And I helped you with the phantasm.”

Elijah’s mouth quirked. “I guess I can’t use ‘you’re a demon’ as an excuse?”

“Not anymore, little halfling,” he smirked as he reached out, gently flicking Elijah’s ear.

Elijah chewed his lower lip with a fang. He knew he shouldn’t. But he was still new to this world, and if anyone tried to hurt him, it would be nice to have someone to help him. He’d rather it be Frankie but…

“Also,” Amon added, “you may need protection. And I can teach you how to defend yourself.”

Elijah sat back, his interest caught. He remembered what the demon had said to him in the hotel room. “Defend myself how?”

“With a sword or any blade. Bow or spear if you’d prefer,” he said with a grin as he stood. Elijah was definitely interested in that. “If I’m good at anything,” other than fucking, “it’s killing.”

Elijah swallowed. Self-defense was something he always knew he should learn, and Frankie had said that if others saw him, they might try to hurt him. “Have you killed a lot of… people?”

“Hundreds,” Amon said as his tail snapped. 

Elijah stood to throw their garbage away before sitting on the loveseat. “I’m too wired to make this decision right now,” he said.

_At least that’s not a no,_ Amon decided from where he stood. “Do you want me to show you a few moves?” Which was probably a bad idea since he was still hard and teaching self-defense usually meant close contact.

Elijah looked up at him. “Like how to get away from someone who kidnaps you?”

“You’re funny,” Amon grunted. “Come on, get up.”

Elijah hopped to his feet. He wasn’t used to such energy and the idea of sparring with a seven-foot demon sounded a lot more fun than it should have. He bounced into a boxer shuffle. “So what do we do?”

Amon couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Elijah was exuberant and energetic. It was a good look for him. “Let’s say I grab you—“ and he did, jerking Elijah back against him with his arm around his neck, “what do you do?”

The sudden change in position took his breath away, but it was being pinned back against Amon that really had his heart pounding. The demon was solid muscle, and his cock was pressed against Elijah’s ass. “Uhm,” he gasped, “bite you.”

Amon nodded. “Your fangs are tiny but they are still a weapon—“ he yelped when Elijah bit him. He jerked his arm free and jumped back, tail lashing. He looked at his arm, which was bleeding from a deep bite. “The fuck was that for?”

Elijah grinned brightly. “For kidnapping me.”

Amon licked the wound before locking his eyes on his prey. Elijah tensed, sensing the impending attack, and sprang back just as Amon lunged at him.

The studio was too small to avoid the demon for very long, and soon enough strong arms wrapped around Elijah and hauled him off his feet and back against the solid demon. He snapped his teeth but this time the demon kept himself out of reach. Elijah sulked. “Fine you win, let me go.”

Amon instead dropped his nose into Elijah’s curly hair and inhaled. A low purr rumbled in his chest. 

Elijah shivered. Amon continued to sniff him, his nose pressing against his neck, his lips against Elijah’s pulse. All the while a low, comforting purr rumbled through his body. He remained still, letting the demon sniff and then scent-mark him like a giant cat. 

_When does this become inappropriate?_ He had just wondered to himself when the demon pressed his once again hard cock against his backside. “Oh—“ he gasped. “No grinding.”

Amon dropped him with a hot blush. “Sorry,” he grumbled as he adjusted himself.

Elijah closed his eyes. He could _smell_ it. Amon’s arousal was like a heady perfume and Elijah could taste it on his tongue. He felt a jolt of heat rush through him and he turned away, blushing hotly. He felt the sudden urge to tuck his face into Amon’s neck and bite him. He dug his nails, which had grown sharp, into his palms.

Frankie had said she knew some “hot Vikings” that she could hook Elijah up with, and she had to have meant demons like Amon. He stared at the demon now, eyes slowly traveling down every inch of his body. What would it be like to be beneath that? To have Amon’s lips on him, his hands on his skin, his cock buried inside him. What would the demon do if Elijah licked his horns? 

Amon felt like he was being stripped and eye-fucked as Elijah’s eyes, which were now gleaming with a bright inner fire, looked him up and down. He cleared his throat.

With a start Elijah’s eyes snapped up to Amon’s. The demon had his head cocked and a smartass smirk on his face. Elijah blushed and wrinkled his nose. “I’d better have Frankie show me how to use glamor so I can go outside.”

“How about a bar?” Amon suggested, latching onto the Furies’ suggestion from earlier. “We can take you to one for Otherkin only.”

“A-already?” he said. “Is that safe?”

“With me and that Furie? You couldn’t be safer.”

…

“We’ll just have to use a little glamor on you before going out,” Frankie said excitedly. “Mostly just your eyes and your scent. Of course, you smell like you rutted with that demon so there’s not much of your scent to cover.”

Elijah blushed and Amon rolled his eyes.

Elijah fidgeted, ringing his hands together. They were back at his apartment; Amon too, who had walked in with his things and set them in the corner. Now he was listening and watching Frankie as she demonstrated how to apply her glamor.

A couple words in an old, rough demon dialect, and then she waved her hand over her face. She explained that someday he wouldn’t even need the words, that it would become second nature like it had to the rest of them. It was so simple yet Elijah tried three times and failed.

“You said I needed to hide my eyes,” he said. “Why?”

“Because you have the electric eyes of a Valkyrie and we want you to appear as some other halfling.”

“So what… other halfling do I say I am?” He asked nervously as he fiddled with his ears.

“Fey,” Amon answered. “You could pass as one.”

“Half-Fey,” Frankie corrected. She ran her hands over his face, masking his scent and eyes. Elijah jerked back as his eyes started to burn and water; he rubbed at them. “Sorry honey, I forgot that it can hurt.”

Blinking tears from his stinging eyes he checked his reflection. His eyes were still a little red from the pain, but what caught his attention were that his eyes were a brilliant rainbow iridescence. He blinked and stepped back. “Woah.”

Amon snorted in distaste.

Frankie smirked, glancing at the demon before saying, “Maybe we’ll find you a nice hook-up.”

Next to them Amon growled. He appeared human at the moment, so there was no snap of his tail and showing of fangs. His tanned skin reddened and he glared down at Frankie. 

“What?” She hummed innocently. 

Elijah shook his head. “Not looking to hook up, okay?” But he couldn’t stop himself from looking at Amon. The demon was definitely jealous. And… he had shown interest. Hadn’t he?

“Too bad, you’re adorable.”

“Says you,” he said.

She laughed and took his hand. “Okay honey, lets go!”

They piled into Frankie’s car, Elijah in front and Amon in back. Elijah sat fiddling with his ears and squirming nervously. All the while his mind was scrambling: was this a good idea? It had been less than a day. He wanted to get drunk sure, but around Otherkin? Maybe they should go home. Was Amon seriously going to rent his couch? Why did Amon get so jealous? Did he… like him? Did Elijah like him back?

“Honey calm down,” Frankie said with a glance at him.

“I’m calm,” he lied weakly.

“If it’s too much…”

“No,” yes, “I’ll be okay. You won’t ditch me, right?”

Frankie patted his leg. “Of course not. And besides, Amon will be there.”

Elijah glanced in the backseat where the man was ignoring them and pointedly staring out the window. He hummed. “Right.”

When they pulled up to the bar it looked like any other old brick building that had been renovated into a bar. It had blacked out windows, a sign over the door that was neon and missing a couple letters (“The Cauldron”) and cars out front. Over the door was an inscription and standing just under the awning was a deep shadow.

Elijah sucked in a sharp breath. “Is that—??”

“No,” Frankie quickly said. “It’s the bouncer. See the wards over the door? If anyone human tries to enter, the black mass take care of them.”

“How?” He asked as he stepped back and into Amon.

“Throw then in the street and wipe the last few seconds of their memory,” the demon explained. “They’ll wander off confused and acting inebriated. No big deal.”

“Right… okay. Makes sense.”

“So other than that, what do you think?” Frankie asked.

“It looks so normal,” he said.

“What did you expect?” She asked as she fiddled with her hair and lead the way with Amon just behind them.

“I dunno… something like in Harry Potter?”

“I’d scold you but what you’re new,” she said as they headed to the large wooden door. 

Elijah slowed his steps, but the shadow didn’t move when he passed by it. It looked like it was painted on the brick and woodwork. Had Elijah not had such an inquisitive eye he wouldn’t have even noticed it.

With Frankie leading the way and Amon just behind him he felt a bit safer, but familiar anxieties were making his stomach churn. He huffed and twisted his hands together.

“Ready for it?” Frankie asked as she pulled open a large door at the end of the hallway. This door and the flooring were covered in even more carvings; to keep humans out and secrets kept. But when she pulled open the heavy door that looked like it belonged in a dungeon, Elijah stopped in his tracks.

The bar looked like every other bar he had been in before, except for the fact that no one was human. For a moment some appeared human, like Frankie, but it was definitely not the case. There were Otherkin with horns, wings, leathered skin, scales; creatures with the lower body of a goat, even a snake. The bartender was taller and wider than Amon, with dark skin and vibrant red hair in a Mohawk and braids, and had black snake tattoos up and down his bare biceps.

“Is it everything you dreamed of?” Frankie asked as she dropped her arm over Elijah’s shoulders.

“This… this is amazing,” he gasped.

“I know. Now let’s get hammered!”

Elijah stumbled as she dragged him to an empty booth that was shaped like a horseshoe. Amon didn’t follow, his attention caught by someone at the bar who was waving him down. Elijah sat down, hands clenched together to keep himself from shaking. His eyes darted around the bar, going from demon to demon, drinking all their details.

He saw a woman with the lower body of a snake and a head full of white curls and narrow, cat eyes. There were a group of males of females sitting together who had the lower bodies of goats and the horns to match. He saw other demons, similar to Amon but with different horns types and skin colors. There was a male with vibrant colored wings and another with black wings. 

Elijah turned to Frankie, who was watching him with a grin. “Well?”

“Pretty sure I’d be terrified if you weren’t here,” he said, “or… think I was just tripping.”

She laughed before she sat up straight and alert. Elijah frowned and twisted around and saw a tall demon approaching them. He was as tall as Amon, only his skin was a perfect red, his nails black, he had no tail and his horns were smooth and twisted. His hair was black and long and braided and he was wearing black leather.

“Rax!” Frankie shrieked, launching herself at the demon and clinging to him. 

The demon laughed, the sound deep and warm. “I thought that was you,” he said before setting her on her feet. “It’s been a while.”

“I didn’t know you were in Ironwood.”

“Business,” he said as his hand went to the sword at his hip. Other than the broadsword he had knives on his belt, was wearing heavy boots, leather trousers and a shirt that showed off his arms and part of his chest. He looked at Elijah then, gold eyes bright and intense. He tilted his head, quizzical. “Who's your friend?”

“Rax, this is Elijah, Elijah, this is Rax. He’s a literal head-hunter.”

Elijah, who had stood to shake the man’s giant hand, shrank back. “What?”

“Sword for hire,” Rax corrected. He continued to stare at Elijah, expression intense and curious. And when Frankie asked the big demon to join them, Elijah could only stare as he sat next to him in the booth. “But you’re safe, I promise.”

“So Rax, are you seeing anyone?” she asked.

Elijah knew immediately where the conversation was going and he jumped. “Frankie—“

Rax looked between them. “Not at the moment, Furie.”

Elijah looked past Rax and saw Amon staring at them from the bar. His eyes were furious and his shoulders full of tension. Rax turned and looked, before laughing. “Amon. I heard you were out killing everything in sight.”

Amon stomped over. Rax has made himself far too comfortable next to the Valkyrie. He even had his arm extended across the back of the booth behind Elijah.

“Maybe I’ll take your head next,” Amon growled.

“Oooo alpha male fight!” Frankie shrieked while clapping her hands. “I’ll get the jello.”

Elijah however was less enthusiastic about seeing the two giant demons fight—over him, apparently. “I need a drink,” he muttered to himself, and just as if he had wished it, a pretty waitress with furry ears and little goat horns appeared at their table with a round of large mugs. 

He grabbed one large pint and sniffed it. “What is it?” he whispered to Frankie.

“A demon brew,” she said. “It’s pretty mellow.”

“Might as well be water,” Rax complained before chugging the pint easily.

Amon, who had sat next to Frankie, had done the same. But he didn’t complain, because he knew why the Furie had ordered such a weak ale. He watched, lips pulled into a little smile, as Elijah took a hesitant drink.

“Well?” Frankie asked.

“I like it,” he said with a little grin. The bitterness and sweetness was well balanced and it went down smooth. It was definitely something he would drink at home. He took a longer drink.

“Well, another round of that for you and something strong enough for a dragon for the rest of us,” Frankie said before hopping over Amon to get to the bar.

Elijah, alone with the two big demons, tried to focus his attention on his surroundings. The bar was surprisingly well kept, with a mixture of fantasy and modern day elements. The ceiling was wooden beams and industrial lighting, with strange carvings around every door and window. The floor was stone, the booths and tables pretty modern, and the walls were old factory brick.

“So Elijah,” Rax said from where he sat comfortably next to him, “this is your first time out?”

Elijah stared at him, rainbow eyes huge. “Wh-what?”

The red demon laughed. “You’re looking at the world like it's the first time you’ve seen it. It’s okay, a lot of halflings are sheltered, especially if they’re part human.”

Elijah took another drink. “Yeah, you guessed it, good job.”

“Do I get a prize?” the demon asked, his voice suddenly rich and smooth.

He blushed, eyes darting to Amon who looked like he was about to commit a murder. “Um—like what?”

The red demon grinned. “Hm, I dunno, I’m sure I can think of something we’ll both enjoy.”

“He’s spoken for,” Amon barked, while his fist rattled the table.

Elijah looked at him in shock. “What? No—“

“He doesn’t look it,” Rax said as he leaned to look at Elijah's slender neck. “I see no mark.”

“Mark?” Elijah asked with a frown. 

“He’s not for you,” Amon snarled. 

Frankie chose that moment to return. “Wow honey, you got all the big boys checking you out.”

He took that moment to look around again and sure enough, there were others watching them. No, _him_. A creature with ram horns and black skin, what looked like the a classic vampire, and a large male version of the snake-woman he had seen before. His heart thumped and his palms started to sweat.

“You don’t see omega Fey that often,” Rax said with a shrug. “I’d hate myself if I didn’t take a shot.”

_Well, at least the Fey glamor worked out._ “What? Omega?” he asked as Frankie stepped onto the table and dropped down next to him. The booth was shaped like a ‘u’ with the two big demons sitting on the edges across from each other. He had heard the word before, but he hadn’t thought too much on it. Now however it carried a whole new weight.

Frankie flushed. “It means… well, pretty much that half the people you meet will want to fuck you.”

Elijah had never blushed so hard in his life. He let out a little choking sound and shrank back. “And the other half?”

“You don’t need to worry about them,” Amon growled before chugging the heavy demon grog Frankie had brought them.

Elijah was starting to understand. So was this why Amon was attracted to him? Frankie had called him an alpha. And so was Rax. 

For some reason knowing the real reason why Amon was attracted to him hurt. So it was just all instinctual? It was carnal lust, nothing more. It explained everything: the kidnapping, the nuzzling and smelling his hair, even keeping him safe. It was all because he wanted to fuck him.

Elijah sighed and swallowed the rest of his drink. “Just great,” he muttered. “Fuck me or I presume, kill me. My day just got better.”

The other three saw his change in mood, but misinterpreted the reason why. “Honey, no one will hurt you.”

He glanced at Amon, who gave him a quizzical frown, before looking away. “Can I get like, twelve more of these?”

“I don’t think you want to get shit-faced on your first night out,” the Furie cautioned, but she did wave down the waitress and asked for another round for them all. 

Elijah sat back after that, quietly observing everything around him. Rax and Frankie chatted casually about the people he had been hired to kill and trophies he had collected. Amon was mostly quiet, his eyes locked onto Elijah, and he was ready to growl at anyone who even tried to talk to him. Elijah frowned and traced circles on the table top. If he wasn’t… an omega, would Amon even be looking at him? Would Rax? Or any of the other males in the bar?

But what did the other males in the bar even matter, because the only person Elijah wanted to look at was Amon.


	9. The Song of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to post another chapter so soon but I'm really happy how this turned and it's finally steering the plot back on track. Also, don't hate me. Thanks for reading, as always! xoxo

“So Elijah,” Rax said from where he lounged, “is there anything you’d want to see in this world? I get around pretty easily and can take you wherever you want.”

He hummed as he set his drink down. Yeah, he was definitely feeling fuzzy, but it wasn’t overwhelming. He wished it was, because whenever he made eye contact with anyone he could only wonder if they wanted to fuck him. “The only thing I can think of is a Pegasus, but Frankie said they’re extinct.”

“Unfortunately that is true,” the demon said. “I saw one once, hundreds of years ago.”

“What was it like?” he asked eagerly. When he leaned closer to the red demon he felt something against his ankle. Amon’s tail.

“Magical. The most magical thing I ever saw with my eyes,” Rax replied. He stared down at the small omega, head slightly cocked, horns shining in the lowlights of the tavern. “So… you’re Fey.”

The way he said it made Elijah freeze in his seat. Rax wasn’t just looking at him, he was analyzing him. Elijah scooted back a little. “Y-yes.”

Frankie turned to them. “Yes, he is, Rax.” There was a sharpness in her tone that Elijah had only heard her use when dealing with clients. She stared pointedly at the larger demon who relaxed back with an easy smile.

“We all have our secrets,” Rax said. “Be sure to keep it close.”

Elijah frowned. Did Rax know? Or just suspect? He looked worriedly at Amon but for once the demon didn’t look angry, only thoughtful. His tail gave Elijah’s ankle a gentle squeeze.

“Anyway,” Frankie said, “what do you think of our world?”

“So far, it’s pretty cool,” Elijah had to admit. “But I just have more questions. Like… what’s the difference between me, an omega, to the alphas?”

Frankie blushed. “That may be a conversation for later.”

He frowned. He looked between Amon and Rax who were also looking… rather intense. And the longer they looked at him, the smaller Elijah felt. But not only that. He felt a tightness in his belly and an ache between his legs. He flinched and blushed, looking away.

Frankie hissed at the two demons. “Stop it, asshats.”

Elijah rubbed the back of his neck. “Is there a bathroom around here?” 

“I’ll show you,” Amon offered as he stood. Rax moved as well, to let Elijah out of the booth without forcing him to crawl over him.

Elijah slipped by the large demon and followed Amon to the bathrooms in the back. The demon waited outside the door while Elijah did what he needed to and then stood in front of the mirror after washing his hands. 

The reflection staring back was more foreign than before. The glamor spell Frankie had cast over him had not only changed the color of his eyes, but it had made his ears longer and slimmer, his skin had a little shine to it, and his jaw was sharper. He frowned and ran his hands through his heavy curls and stepped back.

Who was he now? Under this disguise he was half-Valkyrie, and an omega demon. What did all that mean? What was he supposed to do with his life? And someday he’d… stop aging. He would be immortal, like Frankie and Amon and Reuben.

How terrifying. What if he went through eternity alone? Only subjected to the pursuit of others who wanted to fuck or hurt him? And what of his own kind? What would they do when they discovered him?

Heart racing, Elijah leaned over the sink, hands grasping the porcelain. He closed his eyes, breathing in gasps, until the panic rolled over him. He slumped onto the floor, face in his hands.

By the time he was standing up the door opened and a concerned Amon stood there, tail lashing and eyes fiery. “Elijah?” he asked worriedly.

Elijah wiped his eyes and straightened his shirt. “Sorry. I was just um… nothing.”

Amon looked at Elijah, who looked sad. He wondered what had brought him down so hard. Was it the omega thing? That the Pegasus were dead? He fidgeted as he wondered what he could do to lift his spirits.

In the back was a live band and the dance floor was full; he could hear the music through the walls and the floor vibrating. He sighed. He hated dancing. But if Elijah didn’t cheer up soon Amon felt like he was going to have an anxiety attack.

“Elijah, come with me,” he said from where he stood.

The halfling looked up. “Huh? To where?”

“The dance floor.”

The halfling arched an eyebrow and Amon sighed. “There is a live band. You like this kind of music, don’t you?”

Elijah blinked. The music was exactly what he’d been listening to a lot lately: hard metal mixed with fiddles and bagpipes and flutes. He had heard bits and pieces of it around all the commotion in the bar.

“How did you know?” he asked as he followed the demon from the restroom.

Amon shrugged. “I saw the albums in your home.”

When Amon offered him his hand, Elijah took it after a moment of hesitation. Was this also part of the alpha’s instincts? Was this still Amon’s way of getting into his pants?

_I should just sleep with him and get it over with,_ Elijah mused as they walked around demons and creatures to the dance floor in the back of the bar. But if they did that, would Amon leave? What if… in the end… he was abandoned…

But the second they were on the dance floor Elijah’s attention was completely engulfed by the activity in front of him.

The dance floor was crowded and Elijah pressed against Amon to avoid being pulled into the throng of it all. The demon maneuver them until they were away from the mass of bodies and in a spot where they could see the band.

“Wow,” Elijah gasped over the thunder of drums, bagpipes and fiddles, “what are they?”

“Harpies,” Amon said. He had to lean down in order to be heard over the music. 

It was a group of six; five females and a male on the drums. They had different skin tones but the same fierce, black eyes and dark wings folded against their backs. The male had ram horns and the females smaller horns that were barely visible with their hair. The lead singer had a bright purple Mohawk and was wearing only a leather skirt and gladiator sandals.

“What… language is this?”

“A old dialect of demonish,” Amon said in Elijah’s ear. “She’s singing about the war of the giants and the fall of the mountain people.”

Elijah, unable to resist, leaned back against Amon who was warm and solid. Surprisingly the demon dropped his arms around him. Despite the size difference they fit together nicely. Elijah looked down at Amon’s hands and was tempted to hold them. 

He rubbed his neck. Rax had said that Elijah wasn’t marked so that meant he wasn’t spoken for. Exactly how did alpha demons mark omegas? Was it only their mates or everyone they had sex with?

When the song ended Elijah blinked and shook his head to clear it. “That was pretty amazing,” he said as he turned away from the stage. The dance floor was clearing, the masses heading out for drinks between sets and the band going out the side door to get fresh air.

“Yes, they are very talented. I’ve seen them before,” Amon agreed. He looked down at the halfling who had appeared brighter for a moment but was again looking downcast. He frowned. “Elly, what’s wrong?”

Elijah looked up and shrugged. “Nothing.”

“No, not nothing. If you’re afraid that someone may try to hurt you, rest assured that I will not let that happen. I’ll keep you safe.”

Elijah stared up at him. The demon’s eyes were intense. Why was he so insistent? He looked away and ran his hand through his hair. “This is all just a lot to take in.”

“Do you want to go home?”

He exhaled, weighing his options. “No,” he finally answered. “Maybe I just need another drink.”

Large, warm hands cupped his face and Elijah stared up at the alpha demon in shock. His heart pounded. Amon tilted his head and curled his fingers into Elijah’s hair.

“I don’t like you hiding like this,” he said. Elijah’s Fey facade was nothing compared to his actual looks.

“I don’t either,” he admitted. When Amon leaned down to smell his hair Elijah felt a rush up his spine. Without thinking he pushed up on his toes and kissed the side of his mouth.

Time stopped. Elijah, eyes closed, hadn’t expected the demon to react the way he did, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. When Amon recovered from the initial shock he returned the kiss with fervor. Lips, teeth, tongue. He nearly rocked Elijah off his feet as he devoured his mouth with a kiss that made Elijah feel like he’d grabbed and electrical wire.

Outside lightning struck close and thunder shook the tavern.

Elijah grabbed Amon’s shoulders to steady himself. Amon’s tongue pushed through his lips and he licked deep and hard, tasting every corner of his mouth. Elijah, unable to resist, moaned and tangled his fingers in Amon’s thick, braided hair.

Elijah’s little moan made Amon growl and his tail whip behind him. The soft, sweet scent of arousal filled his nose and he could taste it when he pulled back for air. He stared at Elijah’s flushed face, and his eyes, fierce and silver despite the glamor. He growled.

Elijah, panting, leaned up to encourage another kiss when he saw movement behind the demon. He frowned and stepped back. It was one of the big males that had been watching him earlier. He was taller than Amon, with charcoal black skin and ram horns. His eyes were a striking orange and he had a strange, flat nose that reminded him of a sheep and a wider mouth. _Is that… a satyr?_ The male was wearing trousers but no boots, and Elijah saw he had cloven hooves. 

“Xanthus,” Amon growled irritably. “What do you want?”

The satyr looked pointedly at Elijah, a smirk on his face, before looking at the larger demon. “You and I have business to settle.”

Amon maneuvered Elijah behind him. “I don’t remember your name on my to-do list, but I’ll add it if you want.”

Xanthus smirked. “A lot of talk for someone unarmed and a easily exploited weakness.”

Elijah frowned. “Amon? What do we do?”

“I kill him and we go back to what we were doing,” he growled.

Elijah felt like the moment had passed but he wasn’t going to argue right now. He clenched his hands into fists and felt power start to pulse through him. He would not be somebody’s weakness. 

“Don’t,” Amon hissed, looking back at him. “No one can know what you are.”

He opened his mouth to argue but he yelled in alarm instead and jumped away as the satyr lowered his head and rammed Amon back. Elijah fell and scrambled back as the two demons hit the wall, cracking the stone there.

He pushed to his feet, watching in both rapt fascination and horror as Amon grabbed the larger demon and flung him across the room. Amon looked bigger somehow; was it the swell of his muscles? Or just the adrenaline of the situation?

The satyr’s hooves scraped at the floor as he stood and shook his head to clear it. Then his eyes, orange with horizontal pupils, locked in Elijah. He sneered.

“Shit—“ he gasped. He turned to run but the demon rammed the wall with his head and horns, cracking it and shaking the building, and effectively blocking Elijah’s escape. Behind him Amon roared as the satyr grabbed him, his large hand curling easily around Elijah’s arm, and jerking him forward.

“From the moment I smelled you I wanted to hunt you,” he snarled. “Now I’m going to eat your flesh and make Amon watch.”

The satyr struck out, sinking his sharp teeth into Elijah’s upper arm and biting down hard. Amon roared and Elijah screamed; in doing so he released the power that had been building up inside him. White and blue bolts of lightning flashed out of his skin and struck the demon.

Xanthus flew across the room and landed limp on the floor, and Elijah stood panting, with lightning crawling over his fingers and arms. Blood soaked down his shirt and pain throbbed from his arm.

“Elijah,” Amon yelled as he ran to his side, “how bad is it?”

Elijah had his hand clamped over the rip in his shirt and the bleeding wound on his arm. “He bit me!” he cried out angrily. Around them the building rattled as lightning struck around it. He could hear people yelling and turned to ask Amon what they should do, when Xanthus raised his head and laughed.

“Valkyrie,” he hissed. “How… interesting.”

Amon cursed and stomped over to the other demon. Grabbing him by his horns he dragged the satyr out the side door used by bands and out into the ally. 

Elijah ran after them. He quickly looked around but they were alone. “Amon—he knows.”

Xanthus licked the blood from his lips. He twisted out of Amon’s grasp. “Maybe I won’t eat you,” he said. “How about I sell you? Imagine the riches I will get for a _male omega Valkyrie._ ”

The way he spoke made Elijah sick to his stomach. Was this how he was going to be seen? As some… object that others would kill to possess? “Fuck you,” he snapped.

“Don’t worry,” Amon growled as he straightened up, a long hunting knife in hand, “he won’t be telling anyone.”

The satyr reached for the empty place on his belt. He spat. “You can try. But I’m not so easy to kill.”

Amon snapped his tail. At one time that may have been true. At one time he may have hesitated. But he looked at Elijah, pale and bleeding with lightning running through his veins. Now he had something to protect, something that was most certainly _his_. Even if a relationship never developed between them he would still give up everything to keep the halfling safe.

He showed his fangs and displayed his horns. “Bring it, bitch.”

Elijah leaped back as the two demon males collided. Roars filled the air and the ground shook. Elijah watched, eyes wide, as blood sprayed the air. He couldn’t tell who it belonged to.

Xanthus head-butted Amon to the ground, and stomped on the arm holding the knife. Elijah yelled and jumped to help, which caught the satyr’s attention. When he turned to Elijah, Amon kicked the other demon on the stomach and jumped to his feet. With the satyr doubled over Amon looped his arm around his neck, pressed he blade against the demon’s throat, and—

Elijah looked away as Amon sawed the other demon’s head off. He leaned over, hand on the wall, and threw up in the garbage that lined the alley. As he gagged and gasped it started to rain, cold and hard, and he was soaked before he even straightened up.

He turned around and met Amon’s golden eyes, which were fierce and glowing in the darkness that the storm brought. The demon stood holding the bloody knife, and he himself was covered in blood and sweat and rain. At his feet was the dead satyr, his body twisted unnaturally in death and his head lying a couple feet away.

Elijah gulped hard. Despite the horror of the situation Elijah felt himself… warming. He took a deep breath, and all he could smell was Amon; a powerful and dominant alpha.

He quickly tried to shake the feelings off. Now was not the time to get horny and he wasn’t one for making out in dirty alleyways with dead bodies. He looked down at the dead demon, surrounded by blood and rain.

“What do we do now?” he asked as he as he started to shiver.

Amon dropped the knife and stepped over the body. “We get you out of rain and that wounded tended to.” He scooped Elijah up and walked around the bar to another door, one that lead to an empty hallway. He set Elijah down and gently pulled up his sleeve, sticky with blood, to reveal the satyr’s bite.

Thankfully they weren’t venomous. Unfortunately it would definitely scar. The deep teeth marks cut straight through the halfling’s tattoo. Amon shook his head before he leaned down and started to lick it clean.

Elijah flinched. When Amon had thoroughly cleaned the wound he nuzzled his way up to Elijah’s neck and the his ear. It may have been a lot sweeter had Elijah not started to shiver again, along with chattering teeth.

“Let’s get you home,” Amon said. “Where’s that Fu—“

“Amon!!!” shrieked a sharp, familiar voice. It was followed up with Frankie and Rax running around the corner and stopping in front of them. Frankie cursed and pulled off her furry, purple coat and gave it to Elijah to put on.

“When you didn’t come back I thought you were in the supply closet making out,” Frankie said, “not out in a storm cutting off someone’s head!”

“Xanthus knew,” Amon snapped while looking at Rax. “He bit Elijah and he knew. I had to kill him.”

Rax cocked his head again and stared at Elijah until his eyes widened and his jaw opened in surprise. “You’re fucking kidding me—“

Frankie whirled around, eyes glowing fiercely. “Rax, I consider you a friend, but if you tell one goddamn soul I swear to the goddess that no one will ever find your body.”

Rax straightened up and quickly nodded. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Furie. But how… how is this possible?”

Elijah, huddled in Frankie’s coat, sighed. “I want to go home. I think I’ve had enough adventure for today.”

“You take Elijah home,” Frankie instructed as she threw her car keys to Amon. “I’ll clean up the mess here.”

“Frankie, this wasn’t your fault. Maybe I-I should…” Elijah said between chattering teeth.

“Sh, honey,” Frankie said as she hugged him. “Go with Amon. I’ll call you tonight.”

“Take that door back outside,” Rax suggested, “don’t let anyone else smell you.”

Amon dropped his arm around Elijah and escorted him outside. It was a long walk around to the car in the cold rain, but when Elijah was finally there he dropped into the seat win a heavy sigh. Amon started the car and put the heat on full blast while turning to the small omega.

“Elly?”

“I’m okay,” he said quietly.

Amon touched his cheek. Elijah was pale and slightly green. “You’ve never seen someone die before?”

Elijah coughed. “I have, actually, but I’ve never seen anyone get their head sawed off.”

Amon sat back. “Who did you see die?”

“My aunt,” Elijah said, “she had a long battle with cancer.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Elijah, not wanting to talk anymore about death and blood, said, “Can we just go home?”

“Yeah,” he said. He pulled out into the street and back toward Elijah’s apartment. At the stop sign he extended his arm over Elijah’s shoulders and was surprised when the halfling scooted closer and leaned against him.

When they reached home it was still raining so Amon dropped Elijah off at the door and went to park the car. Elijah stood in the lobby, huddled in Frankie’s coat, waiting for the other demon.

Elijah wasn’t stupid, he knew that word would get out. Xanthus was dead, and Rax knew by smelling his blood. Someone else would smell it, someone would notice. Then they would come for him and…

Amon, glamor applied, stepped into the lobby. “Elly?”

He reached for Amon’s hand and they took the stairs up to his apartment. There he excused himself to shower and after that, bandaged his arm and pulled on sweats and a t-shirt. Amon showered next and returned to the living room, fresh and clean, without his glamor.

Elijah fretted. “I can’t remove it,” he said, voice somewhat panicked. “Can you please help me?”

Amon crouched in front of him. He sympathized. Glamor was necessary but sometimes it was hard to look in the mirror. He touched his hand to Elijah’s face and murmured a few soft words and the spell fell away. Elijah’s ears were once again short and pointed, his eyes electric blue, and his skin not so shimmery. And his scent. Amon leaned in, touching his nose to Elijah’s neck.

“Tell me what omega means,” he asked as the large demon nuzzled him.

Amon sighed and sat back. “Elijah…”

“I deserve to know,” he insisted. “I know what it means with um, wolf packs but I have a feeling it’s quite different here.”

Amon pushed his hand through his damp hair. “It means you are… desirable. If you were female then you would be… prime for breeding. And… your body will… respond to alpha males and you’ll…” He blushed. “Go through heat cycles that will attract alphas.”

Elijah’s hands started to sweat. “I’m a—a broodmare?”

“No,” he insisted. “In the past it may have been that way, but not now. And you can’t become pregnant. You just—“

“Am for fucking, I get it,” he said as emotions swelled up inside him. He wiped his eyes. “So this is why you like me, huh?”

Amon rocked back in surprise. “What?”

“I already suspected it but now that I know it’s true I…” he shook his head and turned away. 

Amon shook his head and turned Elijah back to him by gently grabbing his shoulders. “That’s not true,” he insisted. “Is that what was bothering you? Elly, that’s not what this has been about. Not at all.”

“What other possible reason could there be?” He demanded.

“I’ve been looking for you for three years, Elijah. Alphas don’t do that for omega demons. They aren’t rare or hard to come by. There were some in the bar tonight. That is not why I’ve been looking for you.”

“Tell me why,” he pleaded. “Why have we been looking for each other?”

Amon cocked his head. “You’ve been looking for me?”

Elijah blushed. “I’ve been… dreaming and drawing you for almost three years…”

He stared into Elijah’s eyes, wide and full of vulnerability. He touched his hand to his face. “Elijah,” he said softly, “I… I am not a good person. Fifteen-hundred years ago I was banished for killing a warlock’s mate. I spent over a thousand years in a never ending cycle of torture and pain. When I was released, by some idiot wannabe satanist, I… went on a killing spree. For two years I went after everyone who had ever wronged me, and even those who had not.

“Then, three years ago, I caught a scent. Your scent. I was in Venice at the time but that didn’t stop me from sensing you. And I started to hunt you. You haunted my dreams and distracted me at every moment of every day. I followed your scent to Ironwood and when I found you… I knew you were to be mine.”

Elijah gaped. “I don’t understand.”

Amon smiled. “This world is… complicated. All I know is that I’ve been looking for you. And I want you, in whatever way you wish, and I will keep you safe.”

Elijah stared at the demon in front of him while he swayed on his feet. He didn’t know what this all meant, and he didn’t know how to handle it, but he knew what he wanted and needed right now.

He leaned in and kiss Amon, the touch soft. Amon returned it just as soft, sliding his lips over Elijah’s. He pulled the halfling close and closed his arms around him. 

“What do you want, Elly?” he rasped.

Elijah didn’t know. He was feeling things he had never felt before. He wasn’t a virgin, he hadn’t been one since he was sixteen, but never in his life had he felt _this_ way. He felt… almost feverish and wet. He shook his head and bit down on his lip. “I don’t know.”

Amon could smell the omega’s arousal, and it made him growl. He reached out and ran his large hands up Elijah’s plump ass, squeezing it appreciatively. “How does that feel?”

Elijah, blushing hotly, placed his hands on Amon’s shoulders for support. “Good,” he panted. When Amon’s hands continued to grope he felt himself grow hotter and wetter. “What the fuck is happening to me?”

Amon was sympathetic. “Your body has changed in more ways than you realize. This part of you especially,” he said while sliding his hand down the back of Elijah’s pajama pants. He cupped his ass before sliding his fingers between his cheeks and to his entrance. Elijah’s jaw dropped and his eyes closed as he rocked back.

“This is… to attract males like me,” he explained as the heavy scent of Elijah’s slickness filled the air. “Your smell, the way you taste… It makes you wet to make mating easier.” He brought his fingers to his mouth. They were wet with the lubrication Elijah’s body now secreted. He licked them cleaned and groaned. “Goddamn you taste like honey.”

Elijah watched the demon suck his fingers clean. He trembled and swallowed hard. “This is… crazy. Im-impossible.”

The demon laughed. “I’m sure it seems that way,” he said. He looked down at Elijah. His pants were down around his hips but they still hid his cock, but Amon could see it was hard. The halfling was wet, aching, ready to be bred, and Amon wanted him beneath him more than anything in the world.

“We don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” he said roughly. “If you’re unsure, or if you don’t want me, we will stop right now.”

Elijah licked his lips. He leaned close, smelling Amon like the demon had done so many times to him. He hugged him. “I do. I’m just scared.”

The storm demon hugged him back. “I won’t hurt you,” he promised.

“I know.”

Amon started to kiss Elijah’s slender neck. He didn’t tell him, but by having sex it would mark the omega as his. It would keep other alpha males away. If Amon were to bite his neck, it would leave a permanent scar that would inform any suitors that the omega was not to be courted. But biting and scarring were commitments, and Amon didn’t think either of them was ready for that.

“Come on,” he whispered and picked him up. He smothered Elijah’s neck in kisses as he walked to the bedroom. Somewhere along the way Elijah kicked off his pants. His scent, even more potent than before, was slowly wrapping Amon in its spell.

One he would happily succumb to. He lowered Elijah to the bed and took a step back to undress himself.

Elijah knelt on the bed, breathing heavy, thighs quivering and brow sweaty. He watched as the demon tugged off his shirt. As expected he was… glorious. Elijah bit his lip hard and curled his nails, which had curled into sharp little claws, into the bedding beneath him.

Amon smirked. “Like what you see?”

Elijah shrugged and tried appear nonchalant but that was impossible when he found himself staring at the most gorgeous man he had ever seen in his life. And that included the horns and the tail; the yellow eyes and the flushed blue skin. His tattoos and scars only added to the appeal. 

“You’re not bad to look at,” he said quietly.

Amon laughed loudly. “Oh, little one, you’re a bad liar.”

Elijah blushed hotly. “Shut up.”

Still chuckling Amon started to undo his belt. He watched Elijah’s eyes flicker in color with interest, he saw a flash of lightning outside. He’d never slept with a Valkyrie before, but he had a feeling that after Elijah, there would be no one else. His blood was on fire and his cock aching to be buried inside him. He’d make Elijah his mate tonight.

Elijah would say he had had his fair share of sex. He’d had two serious boyfriends and a friend-with-benefits in college. But when Amon stepped out of his pants and was standing in front of him naked, Elijah felt like a nervous virgin all over again.

Especially because Amon’s cock looked liked something out of his wildest dreams. It was long and thick and a dark shade of blue. He could see every bulging vein and white cum was beaded at the head. There was a dark trail of hair from his navel down, and… Elijah cocked his head. Yes, there were dark freckles across the demon’s thighs and hips, and when he looked close, on his shoulders, too.

“I really want to paint you,” he blurted out.

It was probably the most honest and sweet compliment Amon had ever received. Elijah’s eyes were scanning over inch of him, but it wasn’t just lust, it was more than that. Elijah found him beautiful, saw his flaws and indifferences as something unique and something to appreciate.

“Maybe later,” he said with a grin. He leaned over, hands splayed out one the bed on either side of Elijah. He kissed the bruise on the halfling’s slender neck that he had given on the walk to the bedroom. He started to push the tank top off his shoulder and kissed the soft flesh there.

Elijah leaned into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut. “Mm…” he hummed. He leaned up on his knees and nuzzled Amon’s neck and then kissed his ear. He slid his hands up over the alpha demon’s shoulders, through his hair, and slowly grazed his fingers over one of his horns.

Amon let out a strangled sound. “Fuck,” he groaned.

Elijah laughed quietly. “Did that feel good?”

“Do it again and I’ll show you—“

Both jumped when Amon’s cell phone started to ring from where it had fallen to the floor. The demon growled. “Ignore it.”

“What if it’s important?” Elijah asked as he scooted away from Amon to search for the phone. Amon pushed up Elijah’s shirt to kiss at his back, lips dangerously close to his ass, when Elijah spotted the phone.

“Caller ID says Frankie,” he said with a gasp as Amon nipped his ass.

Amon frowned in annoyance. He turned and grabbed the phone from the floor, tempted to crush it, and answered, “Fucking awful timing, Furie.”

“Amon, Skoll was sighted. Get Elijah out of there, now!”


	10. The Pursuit of Vikings

Elijah, from the bed, watched as Amon’s entire body tensed. He straightened, sensing the waves of anxiety and stress that were suddenly pouring off the demon. However when the conversation continued it was in a rough dialect of demonish and Elijah was lost.

He stood from the bed and went to dress. Something was obviously going on and as much as he wanted to continue what they hadn’t even been able to start, it was clear that they weren't going to be having sex tonight. His backside ached from anticipation and he did his best to clean up whatever it was that was wet between his legs. This whole 'omega' thing was going to be a bitch, he could tell already. Was he going to get wet whenever Amon touched him? How the fuck was he supposed to control that?

He was pulling on a clean t-shirt and hoodie when he heard Amon end the phone call with a growl. He turned around while pulling up his jeans. “Something bad happened, I’m guessing.”

Amon rubbed his hand through his hair and over one of his horns. Understatement. He huffed and looked down at the halfling, who was regretfully dressing. His tail dropped against his leg in disappointment. “Just in time to spoil our fun," he said as he took a deep breath, still smelling Elijah's sweet scent of arousal. He could still taste it on his tongue.

Elijah folded his hands behind his back. “We’ll have another chance,” he said with a soft blush.

Amon prayed that to be so. He started to dress. “We need to leave right now. Pack whatever you need as fast as you can.”

Elijah started. “What? Why? What did she tell you?”

“I’ll explain in the car,” he said as he checked his wallet for credit cards and money. “Hurry.”

Elijah jumped and did as ordered. He packed clothing and the a couple sketchbooks and a bag of pencils and ink. As he went into the bathroom to pack his travel supply bag, Amon went to the living room and grabbed his bags and weapons. He secured his sword to his waist and knives to his boots and belt; one he set side. Then he grabbed the blankets Elijah had folded over the back of the sofa and dropped them next to his bags. 

Finally Elijah joined the demon with his backpack and a duffel bag. “Okay,” he said, voice somewhat pitched with worry and anxiety.

Amon flipped the long knife before sliding it into its scabbard. He held it out to the halfling. “Take this, you’re probably going to need it.”

“Maybe now is time for those self-defense lessons,” he said as he took the knife. The scabbard attached to his belt easily.

“There's no time,” Amon said as he swooped down for a soft kiss. Then they were leaving the apartment and getting into Frankie’s car. Elijah sat quietly, hands clasped together to keep them from trembling, as they roared out into the empty night. Before they left the city they stopped for gas at the twenty-four general store down the block.

“Go get us some food and water for the drive,” Amon instructed.

“How far are we driving?” he asked first. “And where?”

“I’ll explain, I promise, just go do it.”

Elijah pursed his lips but nodded, and went inside the small store. He grabbed a shopping basket and started to fill it; bottles of water and cold-brew coffees, some fresh fruit, bags of trail mix and beef jerky, snack cakes and strawberry pop tarts.

Out of the corner of his eye Elijah saw the store clerk stand up straight in alarm when Amon stomped into the store. His glamor was applied but he was still tall and wide; wearing black and leather and carrying a sword at his side.

The alpha spotted Elijah right away. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” he said as he went to ring out the items. Amon paid for everything with a credit card and then they were back in the car.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on yet?” Elijah asked as they got on the road that would take them out of Ironwood.

“I will.”

He sighed irritably. “Then give me your phone and I’ll text Frankie.”

“No,” he growled. Amon glanced at Elijah, whose eyes gleamed in the low-lights of the city. “You know who Skoll is?”

Elijah’s entire body tensed. “Yes.”

“He was sighted, and the Valkyrie are swarming,” he explained. “There is… rumor of a male Valkyrie out in the worlds. It’s believed that Skoll is after you.”

Elijah felt like puking. “Why?? Why come after me?”

“We don’t know,” he said. Amon reached out and rested his hand on Elijah’s thigh. “He seems to know something we don’t.”

“Why didn’t they cut off his head?” Elijah sighed. His heart was pounding and felt a panic attack edging closer. “Then this… then I… I don’t know. I’m just... I don’t know.”

“You’re safe with me,” Amon growled, “I swear it.”

Elijah wiped his eyes hurriedly. “You shouldn’t have to risk your safety for me,” he said. “None of you.”

The demon shook his head. “I will die for you.”

“Shit, don’t say that!” Elijah exclaimed. “I don’t want anyone dying for me! That’s—not okay.”

Amon looked at him. “Why wouldn’t I?” he asked. “If I can’t protect you then what am I even living for?”

“Is this a… a alpha and omega thing? Because it’s pretty over-the-top,” he argued.

“No,” Amon said. He rubbed his forehead. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“What is it then? Tell me.”

He was quiet for a moment. He hadn’t wanted to tell Elijah about fated mates because it was something Storm Demons didn’t deal with, because they didn’t have them. He hadn’t thought Valkyrie did either but so little was known about them, especially males. He took a deep breath.

“There are many species of demon that have fated mates, or soul mates if that’s easier. It’s believed that many of us were once one, but when we fell from the great tree we were split. Many species spend their lives looking for their other half,” he explained. “Sometimes they are pulled together. Drawn to one another.”

Elijah blinked. “So… so does that mean…” 

“Storm demons don’t have fated ones,” he continued. “But clearly you do, because I am drawn to you like no one before.”

Elijah had to sit back to process everything. It sounded crazy, but wasn’t it the premise of every romance movie and book ever? Finding the one person that was meant for you. Elijah had often daydreamed about finding “the one,” that is until he grew up and realized it was a silly dream.

He chewed his lower lip. “But if you’re meant for me… that doesn’t make me meant for you, does it? You said you don’t have a soul mate.”

Amon looked at him. “That’s how it’s always been. But I’m starting to think that just because it was carved in a tree thousands of years ago doesn’t mean it's not bendable. The world is always changing. The Great Tree continues to grow, branches spreading and wrapping around the worlds; breaking and growing together and sprouting life. New dimensions and hell-planes are discovered every day.

“The bottom line, Elijah, is simply that I’ve never felt the way I feel about you with anyone. Ever. Not in nearly two millennia.”

Elijah’s eyebrows went up. “You’re that old?”

Amon snorted. “It’s not that old.”

“It really is,” he teased. 

“Not as old as that Fallen friend of yours,” he argued with a huff. 

“Yeah, but I’m not sleeping with him,” he laughed.

Amon looked at him. “Oh?” he said with a grin. 

Elijah blushed. “I mean. Well, yeah. Of course I still want to, with you. If you do.”

“If I hadn’t answered that stupid phone you’d be screaming my name right now,” Amon promised huskily.

Elijah swallowed hard. “I think… we got off the original subject.” Because if he thought about that then he started to feel warm and started to ache again and he really didn’t want feel that uncomfortable for however long they were driving. He had to bite his lip hard enough that he tasted blood, because for a moment he thought about just crawling into Amon-s lap naked--

Amon smirked, because he knew exactly what Elijah was thinking by his scent and the shade of his eyes. He sympathized. “We’re going off the grid,” he said, “and we’re going to try to stay as far ahead from everyone as we can.”

“What about Frankie and Reuben?” he asked. “Are they in danger?”

“Yes, but that’s not unusual for those two,” he said. “They’ll be fine, and hopefully they can distract Skoll and the horde long enough that we can find somewhere to hide.”

“And then what? We can’t possibly hide forever.”

“No,” he agreed, “sooner or later they’ll find us.”

“And then?” He whispered.

Amon didn’t answer.

…

Elijah fell asleep soon after they left the city. It was almost morning and he’d been running on adrenaline for the last few hours. But when he couldn’t hold his eyes open any longer he had pulled a blanket over himself and curled up, and was asleep soon after. He hadn’t thought that he would be able to calm down and sleep at all, but Amon’s rich scent was soothing and relaxing. It made him feel warm and safe, even though right now he shouldn't feel anything but panic and fear.

He opened his eyes with a start and found himself standing on a dock. Grey waves of water crashed into the docks and large rocks scattered throughout the bay. Just beyond rocks and a sandbar was a large wooden ship with a dragon’s head. The sails were being un-furrowed and he could hear the shout of sailors.

Elijah turned away, wiping sea spray from his face, and saw a whole village behind him. Women in armor, with swords and bows and lances, were preparing to board dinghies. They were build much like himself, but he could saw the flex of muscles as they sheathed long-swords and lifted shields.

No one seemed to notice him so he started to walk among them. He stepped around women and horses and piles of weapons and crates of food. He walked around a burned down house and saw, gleaming and bright, four winged horses.

Standing with them was a woman in a white dress with armor plated over the top. Her hair was long and dark, with a loose curl. She was bridling each Pegasus and talking softly to them.

Elijah’s soft gasp caught her attention and she turned around. Her eyes were a bright hue of purple and she had a scar down her cheek and over her lips. She had sharp cheekbones and a soft face, but the fierce eyes of a warrior and a leader. There were more scars on her arms and burns on one hand.

Elijah’s breath caught. The symbol on her breast plate was the same as his tattoo. He stepped forward hurriedly. “Mom?” he whispered.

The woman stepped forward slowly. She tilted her hair and reached out to cup his face with both hands. Her smile was sad. “Elijah.”

“Is this real?” he asked. His chest felt tight and it struggled to hold back his tears.

She sighed. “This is a moment that happened,” she said while looking around. “But it is past. You and I, we’re here together. I… never dreamed I’d see you again.”

He stepped closer to her. “What happened? What’s going on?”

“Skoll,” she said as she slid her hands through his hair, smiling sadly still, and then cupped his cheek again. “He’ll come for you, Elijah, when he wakens.”

“He already has,” he said.

“Then run, my sweet child,” she hissed and grabbed his shoulders, digging her claws into the soft flesh there. 

“Why is he after me?” he asked.

“Because I stole his victory,” she explained. Behind her the Pegasus started to stir, fluffing their wings and snorting. She smiled at them before turning back to Elijah. “Magic cannot be extinguished.”

“So they aren’t extinct?” he asked.

“No,” she said with a sly smile. Behind them, over the sea, the sky started to darken, and in the clouds started to form the shape of wolves. “I must go. I love you, Elijah. Never forget that.”

“Wait—“ he begged. “Please, tell me more. About what I am, about you—what’s your name?”

“Mia,” she said. She cupped his face and kissed his forehead. “You hold great power, my sweet child. Use it.”

“Wait!” he shouted, but his voice was swallowed up by the wind. The clouds overhead were building into monsters and the Pegasus were shrieking. Mia turned to him, and she pressed her hand against his chest and shoved him back. Elijah fell back through the ground, was swallowed by darkness, and woke with a soft cry.

He sat up and blinked rapidly in the sunlight shining in the windows. The first thing he noticed was that the car wasn't moving, and that they were pulled off the road and had parked in a grove of trees. Amon was asleep in the driver's seat, which he had reclined back, and was snoring softly. Elijah stared at his human face while he wiped off his eyes. 

It had been so real. Had it been real? But as he wondered this, pain prickled across his shoulders. He jerked the collar of his shirt to the side enough to look and--saw puncture marks there. From the sharp nails of his mother. He bit his lip. "So it was real..." he whispered to himself.

Elijah reached in the backseat for one of the bags of food and drinks and selected a bottle of iced coffee and the pop tarts. Then he grabbed a sketchbook and pencils from his back pack that was on the floor near his feet. His brain was buzzing as it struggled to hold onto the dream he had just had, and if he didn't get it out on paper now, he feared he would forget it. So he started to sketch furiously, first the burned village in the bay, the ship with the dragon's head, and the soft eyes of a Pegasus.

Then he sketched his mother’s face. The strokes from his pencil softened and he took his time, putting his full attention into every detail. He sipped room temperature coffee and ripped open a package of pop starts, nibbling on one as he draw the details of the scar that marred her face. It hadn't taken away from her beauty, it had enhanced it, making her look wild and dangerous, while soft and gentle at the same time. 

_She was a force of nature._

He had flipped the page and had just started to sketch Amon, when the demon woke with a loud yawn and a grunt.

Elijah smiled. “Good afternoon,” he said.

Amon straightened up his seat and then grabbed himself a bottle of water and beef jerky. “Are you okay?” he asked when he noticed that Elijah’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes red.

He hummed. “I dreamed about my mom again,” he said. He flipped the page back to show the demon his drawing. “I… talked to her. She told me her name.”

Amon took the book and frowned. “I don’t know her,” he said, “but I don’t know many Valkyrie. They tend to stay together. The marking on her armor…”

“Yeah,” he said touching his bandaged arm, “it’s the same as my tattoo.”

Amon handed the book back. “What else happened in your dream?”

“I was on in beach with the grey water and the war ship. My mother was there with a small group of Pegasus, and the sky was starting to take the shape of wolves,” he said, and flipped through the sketches, showing each one to the demon. “She said Skoll was coming. Mia, that was her name, she said that he’s after me because she ruined his victory. Because she saved the Pegasus.”

Amon shook his head. “No, they’re all dead, Elly," he said while he looked at a soft drawing of one of the winged creatures. It had silky hair and large, black eyes, with thick lashes and soft fur. It was wearing a bridle etched with an old inscription.

“But they weren’t,” he insisted. “There were four of them. She even told me they weren’t gone. Somewhere they’re out there. She must have hidden them.”

Amon rubbed his head. “Elijah, you can’t tell anyone else this information, okay? Especially about the Pegasus.”

He nodded. “I know. So now what do we do?”

“Keep driving,” he answered.

“To where? You never did tell me.”

“Rax has a hunting cabin in Alaska he said we can use. It’s very remote, completely hidden by magic, and off all maps.”

“Alaska?!” Elijah choked. “That’s like, a week drive, if not longer!”

“Close to it,” he agreed, “but we aren’t driving the entire way. We’re meeting up with Rax and he’ll have to trace us there. There aren’t any roads and it’s in the mountains, and he has it hidden by spells and magic. No one can find it but him.”

“Trace?”

“It's what demon's call teleporting. Not all species can do it,” he explained. “So we're going to drive another couple days and meet up with him.”

“Sure... sure okay,” he said. Anxiety started to swell inside him, but he told himself that it was okay, at the moment. He had Amon and no one knew where they were and Rax would help them. But his leg started to bounce and his heart hammer—

Amon’s large hands covered his own. “Elly, relax.”

He looked up, staring into Amon’s eyes. But they weren’t _his_ eyes. They were the result of a spell. He frowned. “I don’t like you hidden,” he said and cupped Amon’s face and leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

The demon closed his eyes. “We should go,” he said as Elijah's soft scent filled his nose. He wanted to bury his hand in those dark curls and jerk him in for a rough kiss, he wanted to mark his neck and mate him, make the omega his, inside and out, and make sure no one ever tried to touch him. But he couldn't. They didn't have time. He leaned away.

“Okay,” Elijah whispered as Amon leaned away. The demon's eyes had been black for a moment, with an intensity that made him tense. He sat back, easily settling down into the comfortable seat. Frankie liked her expensive cars and Elijah was very grateful for that. He hummed. “I guess this is a good time to get to know each other better.”

The only way Amon wanted to get to know Elijah better was naked and in bed but he’d play along. “What did you have in mind?” he asked as he steered the car out of the shelter of trees and back onto the road.

“We could play twenty questions,” Elijah suggested. 

“What’s that?” the demon asked.

“Exactly what it sounds like,” he said, “we ask each other twenty questions.”

Amon wrinkled his nose. He didn’t think he could come up with exactly twenty questions. “Whatever you want to do, Elly.”

Elijah laughed softly. “So, how old are you?’

“I lost count ages ago,” he said. “Over a thousand years. Same question.”

“Twenty-two,” Elijah said as his brain scrambled to process the information. He knew that Reuben was supposedly millions of years old, and he knew that Amon was crazy old, but seriously, thousands? Was that possible? _Why wouldn’t it be possible?_ he thought to himself. _I’m half-Valkyrie for fuck’s sake._

Elijah wet his lips with his tongue. “What’s your favorite color?”

“You can’t be serious,” Amon said, glancing at him.

Elijah shrugged. “What? Mine is blue.”

Amon frowned. “Oddly, mine is, too.”

“That’s surprising,” he commented.

“Why?”

“I thought it would be red,” Elijah said. “Because you like to, you know, murder.”

Amon laughed. “My turn,” he said as warmth spread through him. He found that this was actually kind of fun. “How many lovers have you had?”

Elijah coughed. “That is none of your business!”

“You said we ask questions and get to know each other,” Amon pointed out.

“Fine, then how many have you had?” he asked defiantly. 

“This month? Or all together?” Amon asked with a sneer.

Amon rolled his eyes. “We’re skipping this question,” he said. “Are you parents still alive?”

“No,” Amon said. “They died ages ago.”

Elijah chewed his lip. They couldn’t have died of old age, which meant they were… killed. He said, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be,” Amon said. “My mother died birthing me, and my father was horrible monster. He deserved what he got.”

“Did… you kill him?” Elijah asked quietly.

“No,” Amon growled, “but I wish I had.”

Elijah rested his hand on Amon’s leg. “I’m sorry. That’s… horrible.”

Amon looked at him. Elijah’s eyes were soft and his expression concerned. The halfling meant what he said, he really did feel sorry for him. He actually did care. Amon frowned. “You’re too good for me, Elly,” he said, voice rough and rushed, “the Fates… have played a cruel joke on us both.”

Elijah sat up with a jerk. “What?” he asked, voice sharp. “What do you mean by that?”

“I told you,” he sighed, “I’m a monster. A horrible monster. I’ve killed hundreds in my lifetime, and taken joy in almost every kill. I’ve hurt people, done horrible things to people, and I have enemies all around me itching for their chance to take my head. And every one of them would be justified. I am not… good for you. I can’t believe that we were matched together. You deserve someone so much better.”

Elijah frowned and shook his head. “Fate may have set us on the same path, but I’d like to think it’s my decision on whether or not I stay with you. And… despite the bumpy start, I’m starting to like what I see you in, Amon.”

“You shouldn’t,” he growled as his heart started to pound. Anxiety prickled up and down his spine and guilt made him feel nauseous. Elijah made him feel things, things he had never felt before, things like compassion. He was not a compassionate creature. He was not a merciful creature. He was a monster who had soaked his hands and teeth in blood and guts. But when he looked at Elijah, all he wanted was… peace.

Elijah’s delicate hand touched Amon’s. “It’s never too late to change, Amon. Everyone gets second chances.”

“Not creatures like me,” he said roughly.

“Next question,” Elijah said, changing the subject because he knew that they would argue about this for hours. He threaded his fingers with Amon’s. When the demon squeezed his hand back, Elijah smiled softly. “What’s your favorite human food?”

Amon glanced at him before answering, “I like pasta.”

“What kind?”

“Just about any kind,” he said with a shrug. “The more garlic, the better. What’s yours?”

Elijah hummed. “French fries. Or chocolate cake. Or even um, oh, pizza. I like a lot of food.”

“You’re no different from other humans,” Amon laughed. “Humans love french fries and chocolate.”

Elijah smiled softly, but his expression quickly turned sad. He looked out the window at the sky, grey and blue with scattered clouds, covering the sun. He looked at the palms of his hands. “Amon, what are we going to do about Skoll?”

He looked at the omega demon curled up in the passenger seat. Elijah hadn’t applied his glamour, he didn’t stand out among humans enough that it would be immediately necessary. His pointed ears poked out from his frizzy black curls, and his neon blue eyes were focused down on his hand. Amon watched as Elijah trailed his fingers over his wrist, and he could see, beneath his pale skin, a shimmer of something electric and dangerous. He sighed.

“I don’t know, Elly,” he finally answered. “But we’re going to figure it out together. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Elijah clenched his fist. He looked up at the demon, his eyes electric and glowing. "I'll kill anyone who tries to hurt you."

Amon draped his arm over Elijah and pulled him close. "Then we're ready to take on the world, sweetling."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be the last chapter for a while, I'm kind of going through a block and my ideas for this burned out. I didn't really want to post this chapter but it's just been sitting, waiting, for weeks, so I quickly finished it. I might end up rewriting parts of it, but if I do, I'll be sure to let you guys know. Thanks for always reading and all the support xoxo


	11. Of Fire, Wind, and Wisdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait until the weekend to post this, but I've been writing for the last couple days and have about three chapters mostly written out, yay! Thanks for all support, I appreciate everything all you wonderful readers do! xoxo

The drive for the next few days was rather grueling. Elijah started to get anxious and irritated with being trapped in a car for such long amounts of time, and for the first time in his life ached to jog or run or do anything to work off energy. Amon meanwhile was suffering from having to keep his glamor applied twenty-four-seven because a big grey-blue demon with horns was very easily spotted, and it was starting to wear on his nerves; like sandpaper rubbing on his skin. Adding to it was Elijah’s distress and that threatened to unhinge him even more because his omega wasn’t happy and he felt the instinctive need to make him happy.

“Can we stay in a hotel tonight?” Elijah asked from where he lay in the backseat. As comfortable as the car was it was starting to give him a backache and they both desperately needed to shower.

“No,” Amon sighed. “I know you’re restless but it won’t be much longer.”

Elijah huffed. 

“How about we stop at the next rest area?” he suggested. He needed to piss and they needed to pick up more food and water. Maybe this one would even have a Starbucks, he knew that would make Elijah happy. “That okay?”

“Good enough,” he said. He looked at Amon, who was pale and had been fidgeting all day. He had been scratching at his skin and grumbling low in his chest. “I can drive for a while, if you wanted. Then you can drop your glamor.”

Amon frowned and glanced back. “What?”

“I can tell it’s getting to you,” he said. “It can’t be healthy to stay hidden for so long.”

Amon rubbed his forehead. “I can handle it.”

Elijah sat up. “Yeah, I know you can, but you don’t have to.” He touched Amon’s shoulder and could feel the tension there. “I could give you a massage later?”

The demon purred. “I like that idea.”

He laughed. “I’d do more if… hey. What’s that?”

Amon turned his attention to the west. They had left the main interstate hours ago and were driving on a lesser used highway that was populated mostly with farm equipment and semi trucks. They hadn’t seen a car for the last ten minutes and Elijah had counted dozens of cattle out in wide, green pastures.

Now Amon found himself growling and gripping the steering wheel. In the sky was a fireball of light and then a rush of wind that swallowed the car, nearly rocking it off the road. In the backseat Elijah yelped and fell back as Amon nearly ripped the steering wheel free while trying to keep them on the road. When he stopped the car he snarled at the three figures standing just fifty feet in front of them in the middle of the road.

Elijah crawled into the front seat. “Those are Valkyrie.”

“A hunting party,” Amon confirmed. The three females were wearing a mixture of casual attire and their hunting and scouting gear. The women wore no armor, but t-shirts and skinny jeans, with combat boots and black gloves. They had blades at their hips and bows in their hands, the quivers on their backs. Their hair was long and intricately braided and decorated with gold and silver beads and hoops that glinted in the light. One of them had her hands raised and was controlling the wind.

They also didn’t have their glamor applied, making them stand out with electric and neon eyes and pointed ears.

“How did they find me?” Elijah asked in a hushed voice.

“I don’t know,” Amon said. He looked around, but they were efficiently trapped. The wind-keeper was stirring up a windstorm around them, much like being trapped in the eye of a hurricane. When lightning cracked overhead he jumped.

He was thinking of the odds of another Valkyrie summoning lightning when Elijah’s eyes, silver and glowing, caught his attention. He watched as lightning struck the road in front of them, shredding and charring concrete while forcing the females back.

“I want to talk to them,” Elijah said. “I think they’re far enough back so it should be safe--”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Amon argued.

“Why?”

“Because they could put an arrow through your mortal brains,” he said with a growl. “And I can’t allow that.”

“Or maybe they won’t hurt me at all,” he suggested.

Amon’s hand snapped out to grab an arrow as it shattered the windshield and stopped short of Elijah’s eye. “Or maybe they will.”

Elijah gasped and pressed back into the seat. A moment later more arrows filled the car and he dropped to the floor with a cry. Amon threw the car in reverse before turning around and driving straight for the wall of wind.

“Elijah! I need you to take out the bitch making the wind,” he shouted over the howl as dust and debris started to circle the car, threatening to over turn it.

“You’re bleeding!” Elijah shouted back, while staring at the arrows in Amon’s chest and shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted as the car rocked unsteadily. “Just take her down!”

Elijah swallowed hard and sat up, looking back at the three warriors. Two were still firing arrows at them and advancing on the car, which abruptly started to spin, while the third stood by with her eyes glowing and her hands extended to the sky.

Another arrow whizzed by his head and be ducked, heart pounding and hands shaking. He closed his eyes, fighting sickness as the wind continued to push the car around. He could hear Amon shouting above the wind, he could hear the _plunk! plunk!_ of arrows hitting the car. They were going to die here if—

With a growl he sat up, shoved his hand through the broken glass of the passenger side window, and pointed at the wind-controlling Valkyrie. Lightning flashed, painting the world white and hot. The wind stopped in an instant, the car screeched as it stopped spinning, and Amon was speeding away from the scene.

Elijah looked back as the Valkyrie ran to their fallen sister. Sickness churned inside him, even as he reasoned that she wasn’t dead. Probably.

He looked to Amon who had lost his glamor and was grinding his teeth in pain. Blood was soaking through his clothing and into the seat and floor mat. Elijah shook his head and sat up. “Pull over!”

“I’m fine,” the Storm demon growled.

“The fuck you are,” Elijah snapped. “Pull over! Before I strike you next.”

Amon growled but gave in. The wounds burned and he knew that the arrows had been coated in poison. The car lurched to a stop off the road and he snarled in pain.

Elijah jumped out of the car and ran to the other side. He jerked the door open and leaned in, staring at the demon. Amon’s grey-blue skin was a sickly pale color and his eyes a dull yellow. He grabbed one of the arrows and pulled.

“Shit! Fuck!” Amon yelled. “Damn it, Elijah!”

He held that bloody arrow to his nose. Whatever he smelled caused him to hiss and drop the arrow. There was something covering the arrow head and he knew he had to get them out of the demon. So, ignoring Amon’s threatening snarl, he proceeded to pull out the two arrows.

Blood continued to pour from the wounds. Elijah bit his lip and pressed his palm against one of the holes. When Amon realized what the halfling was going to do it was too late. Electricity zapped through him from Elijah’s hand, cauterizing the wound and sending a hot shock through him. He groaned in pain, slamming his head back against the seat. 

The demon tried to move away when Elijah went to touch the second wound, so he slipped into the car and into his lap. With one hand on Amon’s shoulder to hold him, he pressed the other against the wound. Two more times he closed wounds, and burned away any remaining poison.

Amon sat panting and covered in heavy sweats. Elijah ran his hand over the demon’s cheek before he leaned in to kiss his forehead.

“I’m driving,” Elijah said. “So move over.”

“You don’t know the way,” Amon argued weakly.

“Then you’d better tell me,” he said as he lifted his weight from Amon and pushed him. The demon moved to the passenger seat and collapsed. Elijah found what little food and water they had left and gave it to the demon, ordering him to drink the water. Then he found the demon’s cell phone and sent a quick text to Frankie, updating her on what just happened, before he pulled onto the highway.

With the shape the car was in they would have to stay on the back roads and avoid as many people as possible, or else someone was going to call the police and they didn’t have time for that. He glanced at Amon. “Which way am I driving?”

“The wrong way,” he sighed. “But we can’t go the other way now… we’ll have to change the meet-up.”

“I texted Frankie,” he said. 

“Good,” Amon sighed as he slumped back. “Good…”

Elijah frowned worriedly. When he touched Amon’s forehead he nearly snapped his hand back. The demon was sweating heavily and burning up. They had to stop somewhere ASAP, so using the phone to find the nearest hotel he changed their course yet again and headed for it.

…

Amon woke with a groan. He felt terrible. Like he had been shot and poisoned.

Wait, that had actually happened.

When he opened his eyes he found himself staring at a disgusting, water-stained ceiling. He frowned and rubbed at his eyes, which were scratchy and crusty. Glancing around he saw that he was in one-star-hotel-hell when something warm and soft moved against him. Amon flinched in surprise and turned his attention to Elijah, who was asleep and tucked against him.

Amon dropped his head back into the pillows. Throbbing pain from three distinct spots made nausea churn in his stomach. When he touched the swollen, tingling wounds he winced in pain. The Valkyrie’s arrows had been coated in poison and now his body was fighting it off. One of the wounds was oozing a smelly, white puss as he rejected the poison.

If he hadn’t been such an old demon with a built up immunity to such things he would certainly be dead. 

He was aware of how sweaty and smelly he was, and he wanted to clean the wounds with hot water to help wash out the toxins. He sat up slowly, which of course woke Elijah.

“Go back to sleep,” Amon grunted as he stiffly sat up and finally stood, doing his best (and failing) to not sway on his feet. Elijah had already showered and changed into clean clothes, and it made Amon want to bury his face in his curls and go back to sleep.

Elijah’s mouth twisted into a disapproving frown. “Should you be standing? You look like hell.”

“Mm, feel like it, too,” he agreed. “But the poison is being purged from my body, and I’ll be better in no time.”

“Uh-huh,” Elijah said, unconvinced.

“Did you get ahold of that Furie?” he asked as he limped to the bathroom. Each step felt heavy, like he was being weighed down by chains and concrete blocks. For a horrifying moment it felt like he was back in the hell plane, trapped for a thousand years among fire and ruin, chained down and unable to escape or move while being tortured--

“Yeah,” Elijah answered as he followed the demon, blissfully interrupting his thoughts. He leaned against the doorframe as Amon started the water in the shower and then stripped. His skin was pale and sickly and there was puss smeared on his shoulder and chest. He resisted the impulse to gag. “She’s sending Rax, said there is too much for her to do with her horde or whatever she called it. And Reuben was on his way there.”

Amon only grunted as he stepped into the shower under lukewarm water, and Elijah left him to his privacy. He left Amon’s bag of clothes and toiletries on the counter for him to use after he was finished, along with a dry towel.

Elijah meanwhile went and looked out the window. Apparently Rax couldn’t trace to places be had never been, so he was driving here. When he had told Frankie about the Valkyrie she had shrieked with fury and started to yell. Elijah’s ear was still ringing.

He caught his reflection. Was he really so different from the others? Just because he was male? They had looked just like him. Just like his mother. They all had the same bright eyes, little fangs, and pointed ears. 

Elijah closed his eyes and sat back on the bed. All his life his mother had been a huge mystery to him, one that he been forced to let go because his father and aunt never gave him any information on her. 

Had his father known that she wasn’t human? If he had, certainly he would have told him. Unless he thought Elijah’s life would be easier hidden as a human? Or maybe he had known how the other Valkyrie would react?

Elijah rubbed his head. He had tried to dream of Mia last night but instead had seen arrows and storm clouds, mixed with the shrieks of horses and clang of metal.

“Elly?”

He turned around and gave a surprised nod. “Wow, you look better.”

Amon felt a lot better. He had squeezed out the rest of the poison, cleaned his wounds, applied a salve made from honey oak and thistle-berries to keep out infection, and had taken the time to wash, and brush his teeth and re-braid his hair. He had even polished his horns.

“I feel better,” he said as he stretched. He had only pulled on a clean pair of sweatpants and was enjoying the feel of not wearing any glamor. He noticed a twinkle in Elijah’s eye, but also a mournful expression. “How about you, my little omega? You look troubled.”

“Just thinking of how my aunts just tried to murder us,” he said.

Amon nodded slowly and sat next to the halfling. “Unfortunately it probably won’t be the last time.”

“I just wish I could talk to them. Explain who I am and… maybe ask them about my mom,” Elijah said as he twisted his fingers together. After a moment he looked at Amon, who had found the last box of Pop Tarts and was eating one, when his eyes locked onto his chest. The wounds were puffy, yet healing. “I didn’t hurt you earlier, did I?”

“It did hurt,” Amon chuckled, “but you probably saved my life.” He offered him one of the pastries.

Elijah smiled and accepted it. “Hm. I guess that makes us even.”

He laughed as they finished the rest of the box and shared a bottle of water. It wasn’t the meal he needed, but it made him feel a little better. Well enough to know what he wanted next. Amon took a deep breath, letting the omega’s fresh and clean scent spread through him. It was cool and calming, like a balm on a burn, but also lured him closer. He leaned forward, kissing at Elijah’s neck. He felt the young halfling shudder and lean into the soft touch of his lips.

“Mm,” Amon groaned as he licked up Elijah’s neck, sucking over his scent gland, before going up to his ear. “How long until someone shows up?”

Elijah braced his hands on Amon’s shoulders and whined softly. The demon was nibbling his ear with his sharp teeth. One hand was sliding up his shirt-- “Um, I don’t know. Rax is-is on his way.”

 _Fucking Rax._ He lashed his tail before kissing his way to Elijah’s lips, which were open and ready for him and tasted like artificial strawberry. He pushed the halfling down onto the bed and leaned over him, devouring his mouth. Beneath him Elijah whined and moaned, and the heavy, aromatic scent of his arousal started to waft between them. 

Heat and desire burned through Amon’s veins and he growled. He needed to taste him. He needed to mark him. Knowing that Rax was coming, another alpha male as big and strong as himself, set off Amon’s alpha instincts. The other alphas had to know that Elijah was his, and no one else’s. He growled again, sucking wetly on the halfling’s neck.

Elijah, panting, closed his eyes and let his head fall to the side as the demon sucked on his neck. He whined, lower body quivering with heat and wetness, open and aching with need. He closed his eyes tight and bit his lip with his fangs, until he tasted blood. It was enough to give him some clarity.

“We-we can’t do this now,” Elijah panted, “we don’t have time--”

Amon growled as he squeezed Elijah’s plump ass. “It won’t take a lot of time.”

Now he rolled his eyes. “Believe it or not, I don’t want to have sex in this disgusting hotel.” He pushed on Amon’s shoulders, forcing the demon to lean off him. Elijah was blushing hotly, and he was aching for it, but he didn’t want to do it here. He sat up slowly. “If it makes me sound like a snob--”

“No,” Amon sighed as his tail lashed behind him, “no, you’re right. This place is fucking disgusting. You couldn’t have found a hotel that wasn’t out of a Rob Zombie horror movie?”

Elijah laughed and smacked the demon on the chest. “Sorry, I was too busy thinking you were going to fucking die.”

Amon cocked his head. Elijah smelled _so fucking sweet_ and… “Go and shower.”

“What? I already did.”

“You need to get rid of that scent,” Amon explained, “before Rax gets here. You can’t--smell like that around us.”

Elijah admitted he was uncomfortable, but he didn’t quite understand the big deal. “I’m lost here.”

“You smell like you’re ready to be bred,” Amon stressed, “and to two alpha demons--”

“Oh!” he said with a wicked little grin, “so you’ll what, fight over me?”

“I’ll rip off his stupid head and lay it down at your feet.”

“How sweet,” he laughed as he stood and headed for the bathroom. As sexy as it would be to the see the two demons fight for the right to have sex with him (which was really wrong, wasn’t it? But at the same time, kind of hot, in a forbidden carnal way) he liked Rax and didn’t want to see him lose his head over something so ungodly stupid. 

He showered and changed into different clothing, and when he returned found Amon on the phone with Frankie. He was giving her the same story Elijah had, just with more accurate details.

“Yes, wind. She created a vortex of wind. Why would I lie about that? No, I’m not wrong. Did you argue this much with Elijah?” he growled. 

Elijah tilted his head. “What’s so wrong with that?”

“She says she already caught a wind-maker and Valkyrie never have the same gifts,” he explained.

“Maybe they’re sisters?” he suggested. “Or twins?” _Or possibly an anomaly like me,_ he added to himself. He looked at Amon, who had turned away while arguing with the Furie. Amon was an anomaly too, wasn’t he?

_Storm demons don’t have destined mates._

And yet, this one apparently did. Elijah was starting to think that whatever rules applied to this Otherworld were not nearly as rock solid as thought to be. 

Suddenly he jumped. “Oh! Give me the phone, I need to ask Frankie something!”

Amon’s tail swatted at him but Elijah ignored him and snatched the phone from the demon, who growled. Elijah stepped away and said, “Frankie! That Valkyrie you have, is there any way I can talk to her?”

“Why would you want to do that?” Frankie asked.

“Because I keep dreaming of my mom and I want to ask about her,” he explained, “and maybe if I can explain who I am they’ll stop trying to kill me.”

“Honey…” she sighed heavily. “I don’t know.”

“We won’t know if we don’t try,” he insisted. “And besides, if she’s your prisoner, she can’t hurt me, right?”

Frankie sighed again. “I’ll text Rax, have him bring you here first—“

“That is not safe!” Amon snarled. His sensitive demon ears had picked up every word and he was not happy. “I’m not letting you go into the Furie horde—“

“Like I would let anyone hurt him,” Frankie barked back.

Elijah winced at the volume and rubbed his ear. “I can wear glamor,” he suggested.

“There’s no point, honey, your existence is out in the world,” Frankie said. “But I want you to be sure.”

“I am,” he said shakily. “I have to talk to someone.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll let Rax know. But, Elly, don’t get your hopes up. She might not talk to you at all.”

“Thanks Frankie,” he said before ending the call.

Before he even turned around he could feel the tension pouring off the Storm demon. He exhaled. “I know what you’re going to say—“

“That this is dangerous and stupid and I refuse to let you go alone,” Amon growled.

“Frankie said she would keep me safe, and I believe her,” he said as he crossed his arms. “I know her friends, Amon, better than I know you. I trust them not to hurt me.”

“You’re _my_ omega—“

“Cut the caveman crap,” Elijah snapped. “I’m going.”

Amon snapped his tail, but instead of arguing further, and digging himself in deeper, he went to the door and opened it. A rental car had just pulled up and a man was just shutting the door. Rax in his human skin was tall and wide, with bronzed skin and dark locks of hair, braided like his own. Rax spent more time in the mortal world than Amon ever had, and it showed. The demon was more relaxed, dressed casually and had s sword at his hip. When he saw Amon looming in the hotel doorway he held up his phone.

“Frankie contacted me,” Rax said. “I’m taking Elijah to horde HQ?”

“Not without me,” Amon argued.

“I can’t take you both at once,” Rax said as he stepped up, waiting for the other demon to move. Behind Amon he saw Elijah step into view and head towards them. “Hey Elly.”

Amon grunted at the easy use of the nickname. He stepped back, letting Rax into the hotel room. His tail lashed and he flexed his fingers. “Then you’ll come back for me.”

Rax stared down at Elijah, something bright burning in his eyes. “Frankie said just him.”

“Why?” Elijah asked.

“I didn’t ask,” he said. “You ready?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Elijah answered nervously. He looked at Amon, who looked like a cat ready to pounce. He sighed and stepped up to the large demon and reached up to touch his cheek, forcing Amon to look away from Rax and focus his golden eyes down at him. “I’ll be careful. And I’ll be back soon. Just stay here and don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Amon growled. Aside from physically restraining Elijah, or killing Rax, there was no way stop this. He snapped his teeth and stepped around Elijah to stare at the other alpha demon. He bared his teeth. “You let anyone hurt him and I’ll cut your head off with a plastic spoon.”

Rax arched an eyebrow. “Poetic.”

“Guys,” Elijah sighed. The heavy scent of two alpha demons was starting to fill the room and it was making him feel… dizzy. He licked his lips. “Rax, can we go?”

Rax, eyes sharp and glowing, nodded and stepped away from Amon. He scooped Elijah into his arms. “Have you ever traced before?” he asked.

“N-no,” Elijah said. “What… How does it work?”

“Just don’t panic,” Rax said. He looked at Amon, winked, and then let the power rip inside of him and then out.

Elijah shrieked with cold blue fire covered them like a wave of water. He closed his eyes, pressed against Rax’s chest, but he didn’t have a chance to panic because it was already over. When he opened his eyes he found himself in the foyer of a large house, surrounded by fierce men and women with bright orange eyes. Frankie stood at the forefront, a soft smile on her face.

“How was the ride, honey?” she asked with a laugh. “You look like you’re going to throw up.”

“Please don’t,” Rax said as he carefully set Elijah on his feet. He had dropped his glamor upon arrival and towered over the army of Furies. He patted Elijah’s shoulders. “It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Elijah had his hand over his mouth. He glanced back, frowned, and then swallowed hard. “It was weird,” he finally said. When Frankie stepped up to hug him, he hugged her back, hard, burying his face in her neck. “I missed you.”

She kissed his cheek. “I missed you, too,” she said. She took his hand and squeezed it. “Let’s get straight to it. We probably shouldn’t leave Amon waiting too long for you.”

He frowned. “Why not? Are you afraid he’ll find his way here and break in?”

“Yup,” she said.

“Are… are all alpha demons this way?” he asked as they walked. 

“For the most part.”

“That’s exhausting.”

“They really are,” she laughed. Five armored warriors escorted them through the mansion and to the dungeons that were down three flights of stairs. She looked at Elijah, who was nervously chewing his lip. She frowned as she examined his neck. Elijah smelled like Amon, but not like his sex. “Elly?”

“Hm?” he asked as he shivered. The temperature was dropping as they went further down. He could hear chains rattling and the loud hiss and yell of various creatures. How big was the dungeon here? What kind of creatures did the Furies keep? If he and Frankie weren’t such good friends, would he be here?

“Have you and Amon really not mated yet?” she asked.

Elijah blushed hotly as one of the guards looked back at them. He wrinkled his nose at them. “No.”

“Why not?” she asked. 

“Can we talk about this later?” he asked. 

Frankie sighed. “We won’t have time, honey.”

Elijah stopped abruptly on the stone steps. He stared at her. “Why not?”

She stepped up to him. “Honey, as soon as we’re done here, Rax is taking you back. To the location we discussed with Amon. You can’t stay here.”

“Not even for a little while?” he asked worriedly. “I miss you, Frankie.”

She cupped his face. “The longer you’re here, the more danger you put all of us in.”

He stepped back with a jerk. “Wh-what?”

“Skoll is coming,” Frankie reminded him. “You have to keep moving. Now come on, we don’t have time.”

She tugged on his hand and he followed. He felt hollow suddenly, and cold. He bowed his head, following her through the maze of stairways, hallways, and hidden doors. He looked up only when they were passing by cells with creatures beyond anything he had ever seen before, but he didn’t have a chance to even appreciate what he was seeing. His brain was buzzing with fear and anxiety. Skoll was coming, and by being here, he was putting the entire horde in danger.

 _I shouldn’t be here. I should go…_ Elijah tightened his grip on Frankie’s hand, and was about to tell her that, when they were lead through a heavy stone door guarded with magical wards. In front of him, chained to a chair similar to the one that had held Amon earlier, was a woman. She looked exactly like the woman who had attacked hi, and Amon on the road. 

The Valkyrie looked up, and when she saw Elijah her pupils dilated and she hissed, showing her fangs.

“Who the fuck are you?” she snarled, her voice raspy. When she smelled him she jerked in the chair, shaking her head. “This is a trick, isn’t it? You goddamn Furie whore!”

Frankie growled but didn’t answer. She nudged Elijah forward. “Hurry.”

He stepped away from his friend and stared at the Valkyrie. She had been stripped of her armor, and was wearing only the tattered remains of her street clothes. She wore no shoes. Her skin was pale, dirty, and bruised, and there was dried blood on her clothing. He swallowed hard. “I-I need to ask you some questions,” he said, voice quivering. 

“Fuck you,” she spat. 

“Please,” he pleaded. “I’m Mia’s son.”

Her lips pulled into a snarl, but just as quick it was gone. She leaned back, eyebrows pulled into a frown. She sniffed the air before leaning forward, squinting in the lowlights of the cell. Her eyes darted over Elijah, from his hair to his ears, his blue eyes and his delicate features. And then she gasped, the sound echoing in the chamber.


	12. Senses Capture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to everyone for commenting and keeping my head above water, love ya! xoxo

“That’s impossible,” the Valkyrie snapped after the shock of Elijah’s confession wore off. “Mia told us her that her child died upon birth.”

Elijah shook his head. He tugged up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal the tattoo, now scarred from the claws of the satyr. “She lied,” he said, “I think we both know why.”

The Valkyrie frowned at the tattoo. “It’s a… generic design,” she tried to reason. 

Frankie rolled her eyes and barked, “Get your head out of your ass. You know what he’s saying is true.”

She scowled at the Furie. “So you’re living with these Furies?” she demanded, “This is the side you’ve taken?”

“I haven’t taken anyone’s side,” Elijah said, “Frankie is my friend. Look, I don’t have a lot of time here. Skoll is--is coming--”

“Skoll is _in the worlds?_ ” she yelped. “Let me out of here! I have to tell--”

“They know,” Elijah said as he raised his hands to calm her, “trust me. Your sisters, they know. They know about Skoll and me--because they tried to kill me. Please, I saw your sister, is there anyway I can talk to her? I just… I want to know who I am. I want to know more about my mother, and what she did.”

“What she did,” the woman repeated. Her eyes started to gleam and her lips pulled into a grin. “You _know_ what she did.”

“I may have… dreamed it…” Elijah said quietly as he stepped back.

“Mia could see things,” the Valkyrie said, “she could glimpse the future, the past, even the present. She had an amazing gift. Do you share this gift?”

“Elijah,” Frankie warned.

“I have my own gift,” he said without going into details. “How do I get your sister to stop trying to kill me?”

“Let me go and I’ll talk to her.”

Frankie laughed. “That’s not going to happen, bitch.”

Her eyes glowed dangerously. “You must not care about this child as much as you claim.”

Frankie stepped up to Elijah. “I can’t let you go. You are the horde’s prisoner.”

“Not forever,” the Valkyrie said. “And even if my sisters don’t find a way to rescue me, then it’s only a matter of time before that warlord breaks this world in two.”

Elijah opened his mouth. Did this Valkyrie know the pegasus were still alive? She obviously knew that his mother had had something to do with Skoll’s defeat. Did she knew all the details, or just that Mia had done something? He rubbed his head and glanced at Frankie, who was growing impatient, before asking the Valkyrie, “Will you at least tell me your name?”

“My name is Fran,” she said, “my sister is Tara. If you see her again, tell her to break my ass out of here.”

“We’d love more prisoners,” Frankie said as she rolled her eyes.

Fran smirked at the Furie. “Elijah is your name?” she asked him. “And you know what your mother did. You _know_ , don’t you? So you need to run. Skoll will come for you, and he will not stop.”

“Won’t you help me?” he asked. “Won’t… any of you?”

She sighed and looked away. Staring at the wall, she answered, “No.”

“Come on, Elly,” Frankie said as she took his hand. “She’s done talking, and we need to get you back to Amon.”

Elijah let her tug him along, back through the dungeons and through the mansion, back to Rax who was standing with his muscled arms crossed over his wide chest and staring out a large window that overlooked rolling hills of green and brown trees. At his downcast expression the large red demon stepped forward.

“Elijah?” he asked, concerned.

“Take me back to Amon,” he requested quietly. He turned back to Frankie. “Thanks for helping me.”

“Honey, if we get her to talk, I’ll let you know,” she said. She kissed his cheek and hugged him hard. “I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on the world, okay? Meanwhile stay ahead of Skoll. Don’t lose contact, honey.”

“Don’t hurt her,” he pleaded as he hugged her. “Please don’t.”

“I can’t promise…” she started with a sigh. She stepped back and pushed him toward Rax. “Take him. Go.”

Before Elijah could object, Rax scooped him up and they were covered in fire. Again he closed his eyes and his mouth, his stomach turning and nausea bubbling up inside him. When the world stopped spinning and he opened his eyes he saw that they were not back in hotel hell.

“Where are we?” he asked as Rax set him on his feet, gripping his shoulder as Elijah wobbled.

“My hunting cabin,” Rax explained as he gestured around the house.

“This is not a hunting cabin,” Elijah said as he turned around. The ceilings were high and supported by heavy wooden beams. The lights were all crystal chandeliers that sparkled in the natural light gleaming in from the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked a mountain range covered in blowing snow. The wooden floors were polished and rich, and there were heavy Persian and fur rugs. Rax had traced them into a sitting room, the walls covered with full bookshelves and there were rich, plush sitting chairs and sofas directed to a huge stone fireplace where a fire currently burned. Above it was a massive painting of a battlefield.

Rax laughed. “It’s not a log cabin if that’s what you expected. Now, wait here and I’ll return with Amon.”

The demon disappeared with a _whoosh_ of blue fire and went Elijah and stood by the window, staring at the blowing snow. The view was amazing, and his fingers itched to paint to landscape stretched out in front of him. He had never been near a mountain before, and now it appeared that Rax’s cabin was literally in the middle of a range.

He rubbed his eyes as he sat down in the nearest chair as sadness wiped away wonder. He felt numb, but what had he expected? For Fran to jump up and help him? To accept him? He didn’t even had the chance to ask how his mother died. Suddenly he wished he would have written all his questions down--not that she would have answered them.

Why was it so hard? Were his genitals really that much of a problem? He looked just like her in every other way--

“Elly?”

Elijah jumped and looked up and saw Amon, standing in the large arched doorway (obviously built for the size of demons and their horns) with their bags and and his weapons. He stepped into the room and dropped everything on the nearest couch before going over to the halfling.

“Did it not go well?” the demon asked as he stood in front of the small omega.

“It did not,” he said as he looked down at the fur rug beneath his feet. Realizing how dirty his sneakers were he toed them off and set them to the side. He shook his head. “She didn’t want to talk, just told me that Skoll was going to end the world and kill us all.”

Amon flexed his large hands. “I won’t let that happen to you.”

“Then you’ll die, too,” he said quietly. “Unless you leave now. You should. You all should.”

Amon growled. He moved, sitting in the chair with Elijah and pulling him into his lap. He closed his strong arms around the halfling and kissed his neck. “If I have to die with you, then that is my fate. I won’t leave you, Elly.”

“You’re all so stupid,” he said, voice trembling. “I’m really not worth any of your trouble or your lives.”

“Mm, but that is our decisions to make, isn’t it?” he pointed out. Amon shifted Elijah around so the halfling was straddling him. He kissed his chin before tilting his face up and kissed away his tears. “Elly.”

“Where’s Rax?” he asked as he leaned against the demon’s wide chest.

“He left,” Amon said with a smug little grunt, “at my insistence.”

“You’re such an ass,” he laughed quietly. “This is his home.”

“One of many,” Amon said, “it’s not like we’re displacing him.”

“Mm-hm,” he said sleepily. Amon’s hand tenderly pet through his hair and up and down his back. He shifted, tucking himself against the large demon. Warmth covered him and the demon’s strong scent seeped into him. Warmth and security washed over him, and soon he was closing his eyes and relaxing against the large demon. Amon’s fingers continued to comb through his hair and a low rumbling purr sounded in his chest, and at the sound Elijah snuggled closer, his pain and fears forgotten. He was where he needed to be, where he was safest, and grew drowsy. Amon kissed his cheek before standing, the halfling in his arms, and carried him to the first bedroom that he found.

Elijah was asleep when Amon settled them down into the large bed, larger than any King-size, custom-made for demons. The sheets were soft and expensive (and clean, thank god,) the quilts were hand-woven and full of rich, dark colors. The headboard was a wood-carved scene of a stag in a heavy forest. It was quite the upgrade from the shitty hotels and dungeons he had been sleeping in.

Amon pulled a fur over the two of them and lay with his mate in his arms. Frankie had refused to tell him what the Valkyrie had said, telling him if he wanted details he would have to get them out of Elijah. All she told him was that he was upset, and Amon needed to comfort him. She had then added in a sharp, aggravated voice, that he needed to mate Elijah as soon as possible, because the halfling needed the connection. He needed to know that Amon was there for him and would protect him at all costs.

_Not like I haven’t tried,_ he had grumbled. But Frankie was right, there was a bond between them and they needed to solidify it. It would help stabilize them both, and enhance Elijah’s powers and his confidence. 

He sighed and tucked his face into Elijah’s neck. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feelings rushing through him. Now that the hunt for the halfling was over, the grinding need to find and possess were gone, and replaced by the queer desire to protect and provide. It was new, and strange. Amon has never wanted to protect anyone or anything in his entire life. He had lusted for others, had laid claim on previous mates purely out of greed and spite, but never in his life had he felt the alpha instincts to keep an omega demon safe, healthy, and content.

_There is no denying the changes inside me,_ he realized. He had always heard of the alpha need to protect their mates, but being a Storm demon he had never actually felt it; he’d always felt the urge to hunt and fuck. Now, he was nearly drowning in his instinct to keep Elijah safe, connect with him, and keep him happy. It was terrifying, because the instinct was like an alarm in his head. Protect, care, mate.

He looked down at Elijah, sleeping quietly and tucked against him. Looking at him made warmth spread through his chest, and his heart thumped. How incredibly strange, such affection was more alien to him than modern day technology.

One thing that hadn’t changed however was his desire to kill, but the reason had shifted from it being just good fun, to the need to keep Elijah safe. If anyone touched him, he would kill them. No second chances.

…

Elijah woke to a rustling and something sliding up his shirt and warm breath on his neck. He opened his eyes and frowned up at the dark, unfamiliar ceiling. When he looked down he saw that Amon was asleep on the bed, half-draped over him, his hand shoved up Elijah’s shirt and his face on his shoulder with his nose against his neck. Elijah blushed.

“Who would have thought the big demon would be cuddly,” he murmured to himself. The demon’s big hand was resting under his shirt and on his chest, and when Amon shifted, his hand squeezed.

Elijah rolled his eyes and sat up, but the sleeping demon wasn’t letting go so easily. Arms closed around him and Amon nestled his face in his lap. With arms firmly locked around him there was no getting away without waking Amon.

He tilted his head. The demon looked so peaceful and he decided against waking him, sp he instead made himself comfortable with his back against the headboard, and picked up Amon’s phone from where it had been left on the bed. 

Before he started to text Frankie he was distracted by an idea. He pulled up a tutorial on braiding hair and set to work. First he gently undid all Amon’s braids and used his fingers to comb out his hair. Then, following the step-by-step, he started to braid his long locks of black and blue hair. He braided a crown around his head, then several long, thin braids, and a heavier one in the center that hung down between his shoulders.

“You have a lot of hair,” Elijah hummed as he carefully added the gold beads and bands to long locks that he hadn’t braided. He was just finishing when his fingers grazed over one of the demon’s horns, causing Amon to shudder and nuzzled his face into Elijah’s lap.

He blushed. _That’s right, his horns are super sensitive, and contact can cause raging demon erections._ Elijah again picked up the phone to text the Furie, but found himself distracted for a second time when Amon tightened his embrace and huffed a warm breath against his thigh.

“Um,” he stammered as the demon nuzzled his way sleepily to Elijah’s groin and sniffed. A low purr rumbled from the demon as he started to open-mouth kiss—

Elijah squeaked in surprise as Amon tried to kiss and nibble him through his tight jeans. He dropped his hands to the demon’s shoulders, and honestly meant to push him away, but he was already responding to the demon’s scent and mouth.

Amon’s tail whipped as he let out a frustrated growl. He had left a wet spot on Elijah’s jeans and may have bitten through the fabric had the heavy scent of aroused omega demon not woken him. 

Amon lifted his head and looked up, meeting Elijah’s wide eyes. The halfling was a flushed mess, and his eyes were nearly glowing. When he looked down he smirked. “Mm,” he yawned, “was I groping you in my sleep?”

“Uh, yeah,” Elijah gapsed. He was shaking, and he was ready to beg Amon to continue. The demon seemed to know what he was thinking because he grinned smugly.

The demon leaned close to him, inhaling Elijah’s sweet scent of arousal. “Would you like me to…” 

Elijah frowned when Amon stopped talking and reached back to touch his hair. It hadn’t occurred to Elijah until that moment that perhaps braids meant something to Amon’s kind. _What if it’s like Game of Thrones and I just created some horrible offense?_ He sat completely still as Amon sat up, kneeling on the bed, and reached back for his hair..

“I’m sorry,” Elijah blurted out. “I shouldn’t have—“

Amon turned his focus to the small omega. Storm demon’s often braided each other’s hair, but it was strictly between family members or mates. Knowing that Elijah had done this made his heart swell in his chest. Because of his troubled childhood and life, no one had ever braided his hair; he had had a few try, and they had suffered from broken wrists or severed hands.

“Are you mad?” Elijah asked as he stared at the demon’s face, looking for any signs of aggression.

“No,” he said quietly. “No I am… quite touched, actually. Thank you, Elijah.”

The softness in Amon’s voice caught Elijah off-guard. He shifted slightly on the bed, chewing the inside of his lip, before asking, “Are you sure?”

Amon nodded. “Yes, sweetling.”

It was a different side of Amon. Emotional. Elijah leaned forward, sliding his hands over the demon’s shoulders and up his neck to his face. The demon leaned down and Elijah tilted his head up, meeting him for the kiss.

It was soft, and the emotion packed behind it had Elijah feeling dizzy. He whined, the sound soft and needy, as Amon slowly and precisely devoured his mouth. When the alpha demon tugs at his shirt Elijah raises his hands for it to be pulled off, which does stop the kiss for a quarter of a second before Amon is down in his face again. 

Teeth and tongue work against his lips and Elijah melts. His body feels like it’s on fire and somewhere outside, despite the mountains and the snow, lightning strikes and the cabin rumbles.

Amon chuckles. “Not going to strike me, are you?”

Breathless, Elijah tangles his hands in the hair he just braided and jerks the demon back down while rasping, “Only if you fucking stop.”

Amon rumbled an excited growl and kissed him again, more passionate and demanding. It’s rougher this time, more insistent, and Elijah is willing to hang on for the ride. 

He’s pulled away from the headboard and pushed down onto the pillows while Amon’s lips move from his mouth and down his neck. He stops to worship and particularly sensitive spot on his neck, where Elijah’s sweet omega scent is heaviest, his tongue licking and teeth lightly biting.

Elijah whines again, voice high. Amon’s big hands are working at the rest of his clothing until he’s completely naked and spread out on the furs and quilts.

The alpha demon pauses to appreciate the view. Elijah is supple and soft, his halfling body healthy and ready to be taken. He can see Elijah tremble and the heavy scent of his sex is like a film on Amon’s tongue. He slowly drags one hand down Elijah’s chest, giving one of his pink nipple a squeeze, and then caresses down his stomach and to his hardened cock, which he wraps his hand around.

“Oh— _oh_ ,” Elijah moans. He reaches back and grabs the heavy blankets in his hands, squeezing until his knuckles are white. 

“We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet,” Amon laughs as he nipped Elijah’s collarbone.

Elijah’s eyes were squeezed shut and his lower body quivering. “What’s the fun part?” he gasped.

“My tongue in your ass.”

“Fuck,” Elijah laughed. “You’re so crude.”

The demon shrugged. Over the years he had had many lovers, male and female and genders in between; all sorts of creatures and demons and the occasional human. He had had his fair share of omega demons and even another alpha here and there, but none tempted him like the Valkyrie currently writhing on the bed sheets.

“You’ll understand soon enough,” he said, “your little pussy is already wet and aching for me.”

While Elijah couldn’t deny it, he felt hot and wet and ached in a way he had never dreamed possible, it didn’t stop him from saying, “If you don’t stop trying to talk dirty I’ll put my foot in your face.”

Amon laughed. He leaned down, dragging his tongue over Elijah’s neck and to his nipples, peaked and hard. Slowly he closed his lips around one and started to suck.

_CRASH! BOOM!_

Lightning struck close and the cabin rumbled, but neither cared. Elijah was gasping and whining, his body slick and hot and ready for the alpha demon, who had set to the task of pure torture. He suckled each nipple until they were red and aching, and his hand continued its slow, torturous touches over the halfling’s cock.

“Amon—“ Elijah moaned. “Ah… Amon…”

The demon shuddered. Just hearing Elijah’s voice call his name, raspy and desperate, made him hot. He was already hard but his erection was still contained in his jeans, and he was starting to painfully ache. He growled. “You’re my omega.”

“Yes,” Elijah pants. He spread his legs and moved his hips up with the slowly movements of Amon’s hand. His brain was a fuzzy mess of lust and emotion and every breath he took overwhelmed him with Amin’s powerful, domineering alpha scent. It was thick in his throat and burned his lungs. “Take me,” he begged.

“Make you mine?” he asked in a shaking, gruttal voice. 

Electric blue eyes opened and he stared at the demon. “Will that make you mine, as well?”

“I’ve been yours,” he groaned. He kissed him again, desperate for the connection. As their tongues moved together he ripped off his own clothing, tossing the garments around the room. “Goddamnit, Elijah, you tempt me.”

He moved over the smaller demon, between his open legs. There was so much he wanted to do and taste, but there would be time later. The hunger inside him was growing to a boil and he could tell by the ferocity in Elijah’s kisses that he felt it too. They had to be together before they both erupted.

Elijah’s delicate hand grazed over the demon’s aching shaft, squeezing it. A pinch of nerves made him bite his lip. Amon was big—no, understatement. He was really big. But when he wiggled his hips he could _feel_ how slick he was; “ready to be bred,” isn’t that how Amon had phrased it?

Amon shuddered as Elijah touched him, his hand sliding over the wet head of his cock and down along the shaft. He was already hard and fully erect, and Elijah’s hand touching him made his cock twitch and leak cum. He ground his teeth as he moved his hand from Elijah’s cock to between his legs. Elijah’s scent was heavy in the air and could taste it when every breath. He slowly ran his fingers around Elijah’s rim, feeling the warm slickness there, before he rubbed. Elijah flinched at the contact and let out a sharp, high-pitched whine. Amon had heard desperate whines from omegas ready for sex dozens of times but never in his life had the sound cause any reaction in himself.

He growled, the sound rumbling and filling the bedroom. He stared at Elijah, gold eyes glowing, as his muscles swelled and his fangs sharpened. “Are you scared?” he asked, voice barely distinguishable.

“A little,” Elijah confessed as he stared up at the alpha. Amon seemed… bigger. His skin was flushed different shades of grey and blushes of blue and purple; the deepened color made his scars and freckles pop in color. The large demon was hard and ready to mate, and when Elijah took a deep breath he felt a tingling rush in his stomach down between his legs. He felt like they were magnets being drawn together. They had to be together. “This feels like… a big deal. Like it’s more than sex,” he whined.

“That’s because it is,” Amon said, and seemed to realize it himself. It _was_ so much more. If they were actually fated mates then this would solidify their bond; there would be no going back for either of them. They would be totally devoted to each other, they would be together forever. He tensed, swallowing hard and sliding his hand up over Elijah’s thigh. “Elly…”

Elijah leaned up, kissing Amon’s chin and neck. Then he shifted his body up slightly while guiding Amon down. The heavy head of the demon’s cock rested against his entrance. Just the slightest touch had him moaning. He shifted again and—

“ _Fuck!_ ” Amon yelled. He grabbed Elijah’s arms and pinned them to the bed as he pressed into him. As it was with omegas, his body was already wet and open; ready. When he pressed the wide head of his cock in, Elijah’s body stretched to accept the intrusion.

“Oh my god!” Elijah yelped. “Oh my god— _oh my god_.”

Amon froze. “What? What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” The tip of his cock was just inside and he was shaking as he held himself still. Elijah was so wet and burning for him. He groaned, panting loudly through his open mouth.

“I’ve never felt—this way before,” he gasped. Tears ran down Elijah’s face as pleasure mixed with pain shot it’s way through his lower body. “What the _fuck_.” They hadn’t taken the time to prep or stretch him, but Elijah could feel this body doing that itself. He could feel his body trying to squeeze around Amon in order to pull his cock inside more. It was an impossibly tight fit and the pain, mixed with unbelievable pleasure, had him crying.

“It’s your omega body,” Amon said gently. “It’s… responding to me…”

Elijah whined loudly, the sound different from before. Was this a mating call? Was he trying to lure Amon in closer to fuck him? He pushed his hips up and more of Amon slid into him. His jaw dropped open, eyes closing tight, as the demon started push in. He couldn’t quite explain how it felt, just that it was _so good_ and if he didn’t get more he felt like he would die, but he was also very much away of a sharp pain, but he didn’t care. He was stretched open more than ever in his life, and he could feel his body slicken in order to accept the demon’s full girth. 

_Mortal, mortal, he’d still very mortal,_ Amon chanted to himself as he slid in completely after taking what felt like a thousand years to mount him. He let out a low groan, because he had never felt anyone so warm and tight and goddamn perfect. It was like Elijah was made just for him.

And he had been made for Elijah. The halfling was shaking beneath him, his hands pressing on Amon’s chest with his little claws sank deep into flushed grey-blue flesh, as his overwhelmed brain blank and all he could even feel was the fullness in his lower body.

The first thrust took his breath away and caused lightning to strike close outside. Amon picked up the pace, plunging into him with ease. It was dirty and sloppy, the slick getting all over Elijah’s ass and thighs and the bed.

A groan rattled in Amon’s chest. “Elijah,” he panted. “Your body is so fucking wet and hot for me.”

Elijah, face red and streaked with tears, let out a cry. Every thrust was hard and deep, sending shocks of pleasure through his body. He lay submissive, legs open and claws stank deep in Amon’s shoulders, holding on tight, as he was fucked. He needed more, he needed Amon to fill him, mark him, take him. Lightning flashed again.

“Sweetling, I’ll give you all you need, you don’t have to growl,” Amon laughed/moaned to the halfling that was staring up at him with white eyes.

Elijah gave himself a shake, he hadn’t realized he had even spoken. “I need it—“

“I know, I know,” he groaned as he bowed his head, resting his forehead on Elijah’s shoulder. His chest was slick with blood and it was dripping down between them, smearing across Elijah’s skin. The scent mixed with the heavy musk of their mating and Amon groaned, speeding up his thrusts, pounding into Elijah and rocking the bed.

“Amon--Amon--” he chanted.

Amon kissed his neck and his cheek. “I’ll give you everything you want, sweetling, I’ll fuck you for hours,” he whispered as he nibbled on Elijah’s ear. 

“Please, please,” Elijah moaned as pleasure ripped through him. He sobbed and turned to the demon, nuzzling and kissing, demanding to be kissed back. Amon’s tongue in his mouth was like fire, sending more pleasure through his body. He whined, moving his hips to meet the demon’s hard thrusts. “God, it’s almost too much.”

The demon shushed him with a gentle kiss. “I got you,” he rumbled, “I won’t let go. I’m here.” He groaned against the halfling’s neck, as he continued on, thrusts hard and even. “You’re so fucking tight and _good,_ fuck, Elly.”

Pleasure started to build and build inside him, threatening to snap at any moment. He continued to plunge into the soft, lithe body beneath him, nearly losing himself in pleasure every time he drove into Elijah. 

“Close—I’m so close— _Amon_!“ Elijah cried as he clung to Amon. He felt the large demon finish first, Amon roaring as he came and roughly pumped into him, filling him with seed that marked the young omega inside and out. Feeling such heat inside of him made Elijah come with a sob, and his body clamped down on Amon, milking him for everything he had. Waves of pleasure ran through him, from his toes to the tips of his ears, and he sobbed over the sound of thunder of lightning.

After riding the high of an orgasm so intense it was almost ridiculous, Elijah slumped back with a contented sigh, exhausted and boneless; his backside dirty with slick and cum and sweat. He could feel aching pain starting to pulse through his used body, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He blinked up at Amon, meeting the demon’s bright gold eyes, before he sighed happily, sleepily, and let exhaustion take him.

…

When Elijah woke he was still in bed, dirty and sticky, and he was alone.

He sat up with a start, which caused him to cry out loud in pain. Every inch of his body hurt, especially from the waist down. He felt like he’d been ran raw and beaten. Which, he kind of had been. He ran his hands through his messy hair as he looked around for any signs of the demon, but when he looked down at the bed it was clear that Amon hadn’t even laid down with him. 

He frowned, tears in his eyes, as he concluded that… he had just been _left_. 

“Amon?” he croaked. He swallowed hard and realized that he needed to eat and drink, and more important, he needed a shower. He was… disgusting. His thighs and ass were a sticky and his skin was clammy and there was dried, smeared blood on his chest and stomach. He wrinkled his nose as he slowly stood. Pain blossomed through his thighs and backside; he limped around the bed, looking for something to wear so he didn’t go wandering through the cabin naked.

He picked the demon’s shirt off the floor (surprisingly it wasn’t torn to pieces) and pulled it on. He stood for still for a moment, hands clutching the soft fabric which smelled rich like Amon. “Amon?” he called again, his voice still raspy. But the demon wasn’t answering, and he didn’t hear anyone else in the cabin. With a sigh he walked down the hall, opening doors until he found a bathroom.

Like the rest of the cabin it was luxurious and rich. Large windows looked out over the mountain range and tall pine trees. There was a large bathtub in one corner and a walk-in shower in the other. The tile beneath his feet was black and white and clean, and the walls a rich, dark wood. He looked between the tub and shower, before shuffling over to the shower.

Elijah folded the shirt on the counter next to the sink and went to the huge walk-in shower and stepped inside. The water came out wonderfully hot and he took his time washing himself of thick, sticky demon semen and whatever it was his body now secreted to make mating easier.

He would be lying if he didn’t say that it had been the best sex of his life. He couldn’t even describe in words how it had felt when Amon had been moving in and out of him. The demon had been so tender and sweet, kissing him and reassuring him, and his cock inside him had felt… so damn good… But now Amon was gone, and Elijah was standing in the shower crying.

If he hadn’t already spent so much time with the demon he would have guessed that maybe he wasn’t a cuddler, which Elijah knew wasn’t true. Whenever they shared a bed Amon had always been touching him, holding him, spooning against him. But it was growing more and more obvious that Amon had fled as soon as they had finished having sex, and that hurt more than anything he had experienced in his life.

He choked on a little cry and turned his face into the shower spray, letting it wash the tears away. His heart beat uncomfortably, each thump like a dagger against his ribs, while his stomach turned simultaneously, cramping with hunger.

_What if he got what he wanted and left?_ his brain whispered. He was an alpha demon, after all, and Elijah a rare omega Valkyrie. Who wouldn’t want to fuck him just to add it to their Big Book of Scores? Rax had been interested. The satyr had said he could sell Elijah. Maybe that’s all this was. Amon was over a thousand years old, after all that time alive he was probably running out of species to have sex with and just needed someone like Elijah to complete his… ‘Creatures I’ve Fucked’ collection.

Finally he toweled off and pulled the demon’s oversized shirt back on (despite his currently feelings of anger and despair he couldn’t bring himself to put the shirt down) and shuffled through the house while his brain went over every reason he could come up with as for why Amon left. A little spark of hope suggested that maybe Amon had was putting their bags away, or making them something to eat, or just watching the television.

But after circling the cabin twice he concluded that the damn demon was gone, and his spark of hope went out.

Elijah found his way back to the kitchen as his stomach was growling with hunger. He pulled open the refrigerator and found it fully stocked with fresh food. He first grabbed a bottle of water and chugged it down. He grabbed a second bottle along with a loaf of hearty wheat bread, sliced turkey, some cheese, and mustard. He had most of his sandwich eaten before he even found the breakfast nook and sat down to look out at the scenery.

He was thinking that at least the view was nice, that the cabin had lots of food and running water, when he heard a strong impact against the outside wall. Another impact and glass shattered and a cold wind whipped through the cabin. Elijah leaped to his feet as his heart did a skip. He could hear sharp voices, and snow was blowing down the hallway.

“Amon, where the hell are you,” he yelped as several shadows entered the hallway.


	13. Wild Females

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If I had realized this was going to end up so damn long I would have spent more time on the plot.
> 
> Thank you, everyone, for the comments and kudos. I know I say it every chapter, but I really do appreciate it.

There was a flash of blue fire and Frankie found herself standing in a snowdrift outside of Rax’s second favorite hunting cabin. She hissed at the cold and stomped through the snow with the large demon following just behind her.

“Why are we outside?” she demanded as she zipped up her brown leather coat.

“Because the last time I traced you inside, you vomited all over,” the red demon pointed out.

Frankie breathed into her hands to warm them. “Well I’m obviously not going to ruin any rugs this time so let’s get inside before my theoretical balls drop off.”

Rax chuckled, but marks in the snow around the door caught his attention first. He cocked his head and turned around, following the steps, “Why would they leave?”

“Because the weather is so beautiful,” Frankie muttered before following Rax down a slope. The cabin was literally in the mountains, there were no roads or paths to get there, and according to maps none of this existed. Rax took being “off the grid” very seriously. He had at least one home that no one knew the location of.

Frankie was just wondering if she would lose a toe to frostbite when they saw Amon sitting alone on a boulder in the middle of blowing snow and howling wind. The Storm demon was wearing only pants and was drinking from a large, ancient looking flask. His long, braided hair whipped in the wind.

Rax bristled. “Did you seriously steal my favorite grog?”

Amon glanced over his shoulder. “I needed a drink.”

Frankie stomped through the snow. “Where’s Elijah?” she demanded as she circled the demon. When she saw the deep claw marks on his chest she stiffened. At this angle she could smell it clear as day. “You mated?”

“Finally,” Rax said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Amon glanced at the other demon. “He’s still in the cabin.”

“You… left him in there?” the Furie asked, brows drawn together and hands curling into fists.

“That’s cold,” Rax said, equally surprised.

“He’s fine,” Amon grumbled as he threw back another long drink.

Frankie hissed. “I don’t get it. You just bonded, why aren’t you in there with him, going for round three? This is a very vital time for the two of you and you’re out here getting drunk in a blizzard?”

Rax cocked his head. “You just left him there, didn’t you?” he growled. “Does he even know where you are?”

Amon’s tail snapped. “He’s probably still asleep.”

“You’re such a dick,” Frankie growled, “I hate the Fates for pairing you two! You don’t deserve him!”

Amon stood, towering over the Furie, and threw the flask into the snow. “Don’t you think I know that!?” he yelled. “I don’t deserve him, you’re fucking right!”

Rax cocked his head. Amon’s eyes were slightly bugged and wild and his body was tense. He looked… “You’re afraid,” he realized with a start. 

The other demon stiffened and looked away.

Frankie frowned. “You’re afraid of Elijah?”

“No,” Rax explained gently, “he’s afraid _for_ him. Your species aren’t Fated, correct? You’re just a whirlwind alpha who had always fucked who he wanted without consequence. You’ve never had the instinctual urge to protect, and the ache to find your mate is alien to you.”

“You also have a shit-ton if enemies out for your head,” Frankie added with a heavy sigh, “and now you have something precious to you that can be taken away.”

Amon ran his hand over his braids, the same braids that Elijah had given him. His heart ached in his chest and he stared down at his feet. “Sounds about right.”

“Did you mark him?” Rax asked.

“No,” he said as he rubbed his hand over a horn. “I wanted to but I left before I did. I didn’t want to burden him with me.”

“I think that’s his choice,” Frankie pointed out.

“God, you sound just like him,” Amon grumbled.

She shrugged. “I’ve known him a long time, remember? And also, can I ask, how are you not cold?”

“My home dimension is colder than this in the summer,” he answered as his thoughts momentarily drifted to the hell dimension, always filled with storms and cold; the sky was always painted black and streaked with lightning. He grunted as he turned back to the house and started to walk. The ache in his chest had been pulsing ever since he had left the bed. He realized that the two were right, he needed to be with his mate; the time after bonding was meant to be spent in bed, pampering and touching.

And suddenly he remembered that he had just left Elijah there without cleaning him off, without tucking him under the blankets; he had done nothing to comfort his lover after mating. He swallowed hard as guilt pulsed through him. He really was a dick.

Rax and Frankie followed him into the cabin, where Frankie immediately grabbed a long knife from her belt. “Something is wrong,” she snapped. “There was some strong magic here.”

“Valkyrie,” Rax said, drawing his sword. He took a deep breath and growled. “They broke the magic wards.”

Amon bolted through the cabin, heart hammering in his ears. One of the massive windows was broken, letting in blowing snow and boot prints were scattered inside the house. He stood there for a second, the heavy scent of magic and Valkyrie still in the air, before he started to run again. He found his way to the bedroom they had shared and stood in the doorway.

Empty, it was empty.

He stepped in and stopped at the bed, looking down at it. The sheets and blankets were rumpled and still smelled heavily of their sex. He reached down, touching the furs. 

“Elly,” he whispered as pain ripped through him before being replaced by anger. It built and built, the pain in his chest growing until he was ready to grab a knife and cut out his heart. A loud, rumbling growl started to sound from him and his muscles began to swell. He flexed his fingers, and his claws cutting easily through the blanket he had picked up.

“He’s not here,” Frankie growled as she joined him. “They took him.”

“There’s no blood, so that’s a good thing,” Rax added as he stepped into the room. Suddenly he frowned and balked, “You just had to have sex in my bed, didn’t you?”

Normally he may have smirked or said something crude, but right now Amon was struggling to not fly into a blackout rage. Elijah was _gone._ His mate was _gone._

All because he hadn’t been here to protect him. 

“Amon?” Frankie asked quietly, trying to draw the demon back before he went into a rampage. The demon’s tail was whipping back and forth and his eyes had bled black; his muscles had swelled and his posture was tense and ready to snap. “We will get him back, I promise.”

“How?!” he roared. He turned to them, face drawn into a horrible snarl. He dropped the shredded blanket and looked around as his vision flickered between color and darkness. He was going to find who took his mate, and he was going to murder every single one of them.

…

Elijah stared at his hands and arms, where jagged, openly bleeding wounds had been cut across the skin; most of his fingernails were gone, and there was blood everywhere, because as it turned out there was a limit to what he could do with his powers. That being said, he would have to say that for being as much as a novice as he was, he had done a damn good job at defending himself. Until he had over-done it and got knocked over the head with the hilt of someone’s sword.

He looked up, meeting the eyes glaring at him through the tiny barred window in the dungeon door. The Valkyrie had a bloody, charred mark on her face and was missing most of her hair. 

“Finally all burned out?” she snapped.

“Recharging,” Elijah bit back. 

From beyond the door another Valkyrie cackled loudly. “You’re lucky he didn’t kill you,” the unseen woman said, “a little training and he could take off your head.”

“Fuck you, Bree,” she snapped back.

“Move, I want to see him.”

Elijah frowned as a new face appeared in the window. This one was softer, with wide purple eyes and a little smirk on her lips. He couldn’t see much else, other than flaming red hair on her forehead.

“I’m not a tiger at the zoo,” he said, disgruntled.

“No, you’re way more rare,” Bree pointed out. Her eyes darted over the shivering halfling, who was only wearing an oversized shirt that smelled like his demon lover. “Freshly mated and all alone. Where is your mate? We didn’t see him.”

Pain pinched in Elijah’s chest. When the warriors had rushed him he hadn’t had time to react before he found himself being teleported to the entrance of a fortress. Upon impact he had panicked and caused a chaotic storm of lightning and thunder. It hadn’t been enough to keep him from taken prisoner.

“How did you find me?” he asked instead, “Both times.”

“It doesn’t matter, freak,” snarled the other Valkyrie, “because you’ll be dead soon enough.”

Elijah blinked in shock, skin growing pale. “Excuse me?” he stammered.

“Ary, I think your hair is still on fire,” Bree snapped. “Let’s go do something about that.”

“Wait--wait,” Elijah pleaded as he leaned against the dungeon door. “Please, just tell me where I am!”

But they didn’t answer, and soon the large door at the end of the dungeon swung shut with a deafening bang. Elijah stepped back, eyes wide and looking around his prison cell. Had they seriously brought him here to kill him? What good would that do? What was the point of it?

_Amon will come for me,_ he told himself as he wrapped his arms around his knees and crouched near the ground. The demon would certainly hunt him down. He had done it before, following Elijah’s scent across the damn globe. Even if he didn’t want to be his mate (a thought that made Elijah sick,) he would still find him just to kill his kidnappers; Amon wasn’t the kind of man who just let people steal from him.

But what if he wasn’t on Earth anymore? When the warriors had ambushed him they had immediately teleported, giving him no time to fight back. Within seconds they had were standing just outside a massive stronghold and Elijah had let loose with the lightning out of pure instinct.

And now his hands were cracked and bleeding, and he was probably going to get an infection because this cell looked like it had never been cleaned. He didn’t even want to think what he was standing on with his naked feet. The place smelled awful, like dried blood and urine and possibly rotting corpses, but Elijah had never actually smelled one before, but he imagined it smelled like whatever was in the cell next door.

Elijah tried to keep track of the time by counting to sixty, but it didn’t take long for him to drop that idea. So when his door creaked open later he had no idea how much time had passed, only that it had felt like an eternity. 

He frowned at the purple-eyed Bree a she stepped in while carrying clothes over one arm and a bucket of water in her hand. She had stripped off her armor and was dressed casually and unarmed.

Elijah stood quickly and backed up, eying her warily. She was built a lot like himself, delicate yet very dangerous—much more dangerous than himself he imagined. The cold hadn’t stopped her from wearing scandalously short shorts, and a tank top that showed off not only her tattoos, but her muscles as well. Her red hair was streaked with purple and was shaved in the back and sides with the rest was styled into a braided Mohawk.

Bree smiled at his frightened expression. The halfling stood in the corner, tense and shaking. “Do you want to clean up and put on some water clothes or not?”

“Aren’t you worried I’ll strike you?” he asked, trying to sound tough but instead the words came out soft and frightened.

“You said you were all burned out,” she reminded him. “And no, I don’t think you would if you could. Now come here.”

Obediently he walked over and held out his hands. The water was warm and felt good against the rips in his skin. Before bandaging them Bree applied a minty-smelling ointment.

“Okay, Elijah,” she said with a little clap of her hands, “obviously we have no males here so all we have for you to wear is women’s clothing. But you’re built so much like me that I don’t think it’ll make much of a difference.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly, while giving her a long curious look. “Why are you being nice to me? I thought you were just going to kill me?”

She leaned back against the dungeon door and crossed her arms after handing him a pile of folded clothes. ”Nothing has been decided, yet.” She watched as he pulled on a pair of black leggings; instead of taking off the demon’s t-shirt he pulled the sweater on over the top. She hummed. “You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?”

He blushed while smoothing out the shirts and adjusting the leggings. Amon’s t-shirt hung down far enough that he didn’t feel too exposed. He looked up, staring at her. She was pretty, too. She was everything he would had liked to paint. Maybe looking up at the sky, with her hair glowing in the moonlight.

“Do you really want to kill me just because I’m different?” he asked.

“Actually that’s a good reason to keep you alive,” she said with a smile. “A male of our species is incredibly rare.”

“You’re not going to try to sell me, are you?” he asked warily.

“That would be cruel,” she pointed out. “Who is your mate?”

Elijah pulled on the slip-on shoes she had brought along. “My-my mate? Why?”

“He’ll show up sooner or later for you,” Bree pointed out, “I want to know what to expect.”

“What makes you think he’ll come?” 

“Demons always do,” she said. “Especially alpha males. Possessive and obsessive.”

Elijah ran his hand over his unmarked neck. “Right.”

Bree frowned. “He _is_ your mate, right?”

“I thought so,” he said, “now I’m not so sure.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He laughed. “Not with you. With my friend, yes. And by the way, she _will_ come for me.”

“Oh, how fun,” Bree said with a grin. “I haven’t had a good fight in a long time. I only saw your little show from the fortress tower. Kind of glad I did, I like my hair too much to have it all burned off.”

There was no place to sit so Elijah leaned back against the wall. “So what are you going to do with me?”

“Torture you?” she suggested.

“You could try just asking me questions first,” he argued.

“Fine. What clan are you with?”

“I uh, don’t have one.”

“Do you have other abilities?”

“I’m a pretty good artist.”

Bree hummed. “Where are you from?”

“Ironwood City,” he said. “Why did you kidnap me?”

“You’ve been seen with a Furie,” Bree said. “The same Furie who took one of us.”

“And what about Skoll?” he asked quietly.

“He has set a reward on your head,” Bree said. “ _‘Riches and power to whoever brings me the male Valkyrie’s head.’_ Only a fool would believe he would honor such an offer. But the chance to hold Excalibur is tempting.”

While his brain screamed that _Excalibur was real!_ his heart pounded nervously in his chest. “Skoll wants me dead…?”

“It would make our lives a lot easier if we killed you.”

_That’s probably true. If I died he would never know that the Pegasus are still alive somewhere._ He looked down at his feet. “When will I know what you’ve decided?”

“When the Admiral gets here,” Bree said. “It’s her decision.”

The Valkyrie left just after that and Elijah sank down to the floor, his back to the wall, shackles hanging in either side of his head. At least he wasn’t restrained as well. He looked at his bandaged hands as he remembered Amon’s promise to teach him self-defense. That lesson hadn’t gotten far before the big demon had started to scent mark him like a giant cat. The demon had been so adamant when it came to marking Elijah as his.

Elijah touched his neck. Yet earlier (just hours earlier!) Amon had taken him in bed, where they had shared the most passionate and powerful sex Elijah had only ever dreamed of, only for the demon to not only leave him on soiled sheets but also unmarked by his teeth.

Elijah’s stomach turned and his chest tightened. _What could I have possibly done wrong. Why didn’t he stay with me?_

He didn’t know how he knew it but it was vital that Amon remain with him, it was a whisper of an instinct buried deep inside him, and waking alone had hurt more than the lightning ripping his hands and lower arms to shreds.

He choked on a sob and buried his face in his hands. And even while he cried, both for his mate and the fear of the current situation, his heart was still holding onto one glimmer of hope:

_Amon will come. He had to._

...

There were no clocks, not even any guards that he could observe or listen to, so Elijah had no idea how much time was passing. There were no windows to watch the sun set and fall. The only light came from unseen torches and they created more shadows than light. He slept on and off, woke hungry and thirsty; paced his cell before he sat down and pulled his knees to his chest.

Once again the situation he was in wasn’t what was bothering him the most. He felt… like there was a gaping hope in his chest. Elijah knew, deep down inside, that feeling so much pain over waking up alone was foolish. He had woken up alone many times after sleep-overs with past boyfriends. But this felt--different. It actually _hurt,_ like someone had stabbed him in the heart. The radiating pain through his ass and lower back only reminded him more of Amon. He whined and tried to rub the pain from spine and thighs.

Did his alpha not want him? Did he not satisfy the larger demon in bed? Why did this bother him so damn much? Hadn’t he been actively pushing Amon away ever since he realized he was putting his friends in danger? Wasn’t this best for them both? His friends were safer without him around and he…

Could possibly die by the hand of his mother’s people.

Elijah sniffled and choked on a sob as he hid his face in his arms. He thought of Frankie, all their fun times together, of Reuben and his stern and tough exterior but gentle, warm heart. Of painting and drawing and dreams of fantasy.

He slept on and off again (wishing to see his mother, but she eluded his dreams and it was only darkness, him chasing shadows that he thought he recognized but remained a dark, fuzzy blur,) and when he wasn’t sleeping he was standing and pacing. His stomach started to rumble more insistently with hunger, and his mouth was dry. He tried looking through the bars, he even tried calling out for someone, but no one answered, and as far as he could tell, he was the only prisoner in the cells.

Which mean what? That the Valkyrie kept few prisoners, or that they didn’t keep them for very long? Or did they just leave them until they died? 

…

Amon stood outside the cabin in knee-deep snow, staring at the grey sky and mountains around him. The cold didn’t bother him. The wind whistling in his ears didn’t bother him. He could stand out here for days and not feel the cold. But when looked down at the healing marks on his chest he felt a different kind of cold; an emptiness.

Amon had thought all omega demons the same. They grew wet, lured alphas in with their sweet, siren call, and moaned desperately during sex. But Elijah had been different, he had sounded and acted and responded differently. And the changes he caused in Amon made him different, too. Now all he wanted was his mate in his arms, his scent etched on his flesh; he wanted Elijah to bare the scar of his teeth on his neck. 

The demon growled as pain pulsed through him. He couldn’t even find the omega’s scent on the wind, leading him to believe Elijah wasn’t even on Earth anymore.

(Or possibly dead, but that was a option he refused to entertain.)

Amon ripped his claws through the healing marks on his chest, reopening them and coloring the snow with red blood. He threw his head back and roared.

...

When the dungeon door swung open Elijah leaped to his feet, only to stumble. The temperature had dropped and his limbs were numb and his teeth chattering. If it wasn’t for the extra clothing from Bree he would be far worse off.

The Valkyrie standing in the doorway snorted. “Are you seriously cold?”

Elijah frowned at her, before pointing out, “I’m still mortal.”

The warrior grunted as she looked him over. “I guess you are.” 

It was then that Elijah noticed what was in her hands. He perked up slightly. “Is that for me?” 

She looked down at the water bottle and plate that had a sandwich and apple slices on it. “Bree insisted I fed you.”

“I’d really appreciate it,” he said, hoping he sounded more polite than desperate. She continued to look him over, obviously recognizing his strange attire, and focusing on his heavy scent like all seemed to. He decided to ask, “Is it true that Valkyrie don’t have pre-destined mates?”

“Who told you that?” she asked.

Elijah shrugged. “No one knows a lot about you so it’s just hearsay.” He stepped forward, hoping she would give him the plate and water bottle.

“No afraid if it’s poisoned?” she taunted.

“I don’t care,” he confessed. When she handed him the food and drink he could have cried. He twisted off the bottle cap and took a long, grateful drink.

“As for your question…” she said after he wiped his hand over his mouth, “we do. But very rarely do we find them. And when we do, we leave them. Our alliance is to the clan.”

Elijah ate an apple slice. “That sucks. What if you really love them?”

“Love,” she scoffed. “Love has nothing to do with mates. We pair with those that will bare us strong daughters, then we return to the defense of our clans, with our children. Don’t look for love, little one, you’ll only get hurt.”

Elijah watched her leave, appetite gone, but he ate nevertheless. At least his stomach felt better. When he finished the water he wished he had at least two more bottles and an entire pot of coffee. God, he’d kill for a cup of coffee right now.

_At least I know that Valkyrie do have soulmates,_ he thought to himself as he sat down in the cleanest corner of the tiny cell. But how horribly sad that they left them for their clans. _If I was born female I might have grown up in one of these fortresses._ He closed his eyes, imagining how different his life would have been.

He may have been accepted into the clan, trained to be a warrior, he would have been apart of such a large family, and never alone. But he may have never met Amon. Or worse, he may have, and then been forced to leave him.

He was given a bathroom break a couple hours later and was escorted by the same guard who brought him the food. By this time Elijah felt that maybe he could try using lightning again, even though his hands were nowhere near healed, but the long sword across her back quickly changed his mind.

Besides, his life was literally in their hands. 

Then it was back to his cell where he sat, knees pulled to his chest, staring at old bloodstains on the furthest wall. It was a lot of splattered blood and old, dried out hair; puddles had soaked into and stained the stone ground. Whoever had lost the blood and hair had certainly died. Or maybe it was multiple prisoners. He tried to imagine all the creatures that had been in this cell before him, but all he saw when he closed his eyes was a certain demon.

The boredom started to get to him. He was fed once a day, by a different Valkyrie every time, each one less pleasant than the previous, and escorted to the bathroom at the end of the day. His fingers and toes were always in a state of numbness and the bandages were starting to itch. He was also starting to smell and his hair was getting bad.

When a familiar face opened the door, Elijah’s heart skipped a beat. “Bree?” he asked with relief.

“Wow, you look gross,” the Valkyrie said with a wrinkle of her nose. “How about a shower and a change of clothes?”

He just about hugged her. “That would be great, thank you, please.” She had laughed at his words, but it was kind, and she reminded him of Frankie just then. Were Valkyrie and Furies really so different? Hadn’t Frankie said they were all daughters from the same Great Tree?

Elijah followed her out of the lower dungeon, which he was now familiar with, and to a guard station that had a bathroom and shower in the back. Bree had clean clothes waiting for him: a pink sweater and blue jeans, along with thick grey socks and tennis shoes. 

When he pulled off Amon’s t-shirt he stopped, staring at the dirty garment in his shaking hands.

Bree tilted her head. “I can give it back to you.”

His chest tightened and he closed his eyes tight. “No, it’s okay.” He handed it to her before slipping off the soft shoes and then the leggings. He quickly stepped into the shower, under the gloriously hot spray of water.

_It doesn’t smell like him anymore, anyway,_ he told himself as he ripped off the dirty bandages. He looked at his hands, pale and bruised, the wounds etched like lightning bolts over his skin. He flexed his fingers before washing them clean.

It had been at least four days, six at the most, and Amon wasn’t here. Maybe he wasn’t coming. Maybe he couldn’t find him?

He quickly focused his thoughts elsewhere before he started to cry again, and turned his attention to cleaning his body and washing his hair with the shampoo he found (Herbal Essence, how domestic.) 

Bree turned around, giving him his privacy as he toweled off and dressed. He felt a lot better, that was true, but already he was dreading going back to his cell. _If I promise not to run away or use any lightning I wonder if she would let me step outside for a few minutes. Get some sun, fresh air, see the sky…_

“It’ll only be for a little while longer,” Bree reassured him. 

Elijah opened his mouth to ask what was going to happen then, if the Admiral had made a decision yet (and just where was she? Fighting in some never-ending war? Fighting Skoll? Making a deal with him?) before realizing he hadn’t spoken. He stared at her. “I didn’t say that out-loud.”

She blushed. “Sorry, kid, I try not to Read others without their permission but you’re very loud.”

_She reads minds? Like in the X-men?_ Elijah suddenly realized all the things he had been thinking, very loudly, and blushed out of embarrassment. “I really thought Amon would come,” he whispered.

Bree hesitated a step before she touched his arm. “Don’t listen to what Rosa told you, Elijah, there’s lots of room in this world for love.”

She escorted him back to the cell, promising that soon he would be out of it, but she refused to tell him if it was to be freed or to die, or worse, be handed over to the warlord.


	14. Face the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry if this chapter feels rushed, but I think I think I'm ready to finish this book up, hopefully in three more chapters.

Amon stomped through ash and stepped over charred trees and the remains of a village. The air tasted like charred flesh and above them huge columns of smoke curled into the sky. In the distance a low rumbling roar echoed through the mountains and the valley. Amon stepped over the half-burned remains of a humanoid figure, it’s armor melted into its skin. He bared his teeth.

“The fuck happened here?” he growled.

“Skoll,” Frankie said as she walked through the mounds of fresh ash. Most of it was bodies from the army the warlord had decimated. She looked up to the sky, watching as the smoke mixed with heavy, dark clouds. “He’s been hitting up his old alliances. Anyone who says no gets burned.”

Amon’s tail whipped behind him. They had been searching for Elijah for almost a week, skipping across dimensions with a magic set of keys and mirrors that Frankie possessed. Now they were in the Grey Realm, home of a race of pale-skinned vampires that had taken a population plunge. He grunted. “Elijah hasn’t been here.”

“Obviously,” Frankie said with a sigh. She picked flecks of ash out of her curly hair before turning around to look up at the Storm Demon. Amon was wearing all black and leather, and was armed with his long-sword at his hip and knives hidden in his clothing. He cut the intimidating figure; the leather vest showing off his muscled arms and tattoos and the leather pants hugging his strong thighs and ass. His golden eyes were glowing constantly, alight with a dangerous fire. The demon had never looked more intimidating and dangerous.

“Another dead-fucking-end,” he growled. “Let’s go back.”

“Hold on,” Frankie said as she pulled out her cell phone. “I got a text.”

“How do you have service in another damn dimension?”

“I know a witch,” Frankie said with a wave of her hand, “she’s good with tech.”

Amon’s eye twitched in annoyance as Frankie paced, hunched over her phone, texting furiously. This was the fourth dimension they had been to in search of Elijah, and like the four before, they had arrived just after Skoll had been there, decimating the people that lived there. At least so far all his old allies were not standing with him. And while it seemed that news of a male Valkyrie had circulated, a lot of people simply didn’t believe it to be true, which was the only good news that Amon had heard this entire time. 

“Furie,” he finally snapped, “whoever you are texting better be worth dying over!”

Frankie, passing by him, bumped against him and made the demon stumble. “Shut it.”

If he didn’t need her to leave the hell-plane he would have stormed off, but as it was, he couldn’t trace or teleport or travel in-between on his own, so he crossed his arms over his chest and watched the female as she paced.

Finally she shoved the phone in her back pocket and pulled out the chain from around her neck. On it hung a dark bronze key. She cocked an eyebrow at Amon before she waved her hand in the air, creating a wall of air, and then inserted the key in an invisible lock. When she turned it a line of light outlined a doorway, and the image rippled until Frankie easily pushed it open. “Let’s go, demon.”

“Where to this time?” he asked. All the clues they had been following had been coming in from different creatures and contacts of the Furies, saying they had either heard the rumor of a male Valkyrie in the area or Skoll hunting. Knowing that Skoll was looking for Elijah, they had been following the warlord’s path of destruction. 

“Back to my place,” she said as she stepped through the open door.

Amon frowned as he ducked through the doorway after her, but on the other side wasn’t the Furie’s apartment in Ironwood City, but the massive mansion the Furie horde used as their home just outside the city limits. He looked up at the massive building. Most of it was an illusion, and when he squinted he could see that the pristine white, Hollywood-esqueue home was actually a fortress made to withstand armies and keep the warriors and their families inside alive and well. 

“Why are we here?” he asked.

“Because a Valkyrie contacted Yvette saying they had a male Valkyrie that they would trade for our prisoner,” she explained as she walked up the winding drive toward the massive front doors. 

Amon barked. “Are you fucking serious? Then get in there and get her! Let’s go, right now!”

“It’s not that simple,” Frankie snarled as she turned around, walking backwards and staring up at the raging demon. “Yvette isn’t going to just trade her most prized prisoner for someone she doesn’t know or care about.”

“If she wants to keep her head, she will.”

“You’ll wait out here,” she snapped, “you can’t come inside with me and start cutting off heads.”

“Try and stop me.”

The Furie growled and lunged. Amon stopped and stepped back, but before he could even pull his sword the smaller demon had shoved him off-balance and used a knife hidden up her sleeve to cut his achilles tendon on his right foot. He collapsed into the gravel with a snarl of pain and watched as she winked and ran to the door. Amon reached back, covering the deep wound with his hand.

“Fucking bitch.”

…

Bree wasn’t lying when she said that it wouldn’t be long before the Admiral came for him. Not an hour later the dungeon door opened and a woman stepped into Elijah’s cell. Elijah stood, staring at the woman, as she stared at him. She was dressed in leather, chainmail and armor, and all of it was scuffed and bloody. Her boots were dirty and the sword at her hip was well used. Her hair hung in heavy black ringlets down her back and over her shoulders. But it was her eyes that made Elijah step back and catch his breath; they were black, and when she stared at him, he felt like she was looking straight into him.

Outside the cell other women were watching. Elijah recognized a couple of them from a week ago when he was kidnapped. A couple were still growing their hair back and they still did not look happy with him.

The Admiral took her time looking Elijah over. She cocked her head. “So it is true. A male Valkyrie. How very unique.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told that,” he said with a little snip in his voice. “It’s getting old.”

Her lips quirked into a little smile. “And you almost took down my most elite force, untrained and using only your gift. That is most impressive, child.”

 _No wonder they’re all so pissed at me,_ he realized as he looked past her to the lingering warriors.

“Well, when you’re being kidnapped you should probably fight back,” Elijah said with a shrug.

“I want my sister back!” shouted a woman who shoved her way through the crowd and stormed into the cell. She looked exactly like the Valkyrie Fran, only her hair was a great deal shorter due to Elijah’s strike when he and Amon were trying to escape. Tara, her eyes blazing with anger, only stopped when the Admiral raised her hand. 

“I don’t… I don’t have your sister,” Elijah said as he leaned back against the back wall. 

“We know you were with her!” Tara hissed. “You were seen with the Furie horde! And they told us that--”

“Tara, quiet,” the Admiral interrupted. “Tell me, Elijah, what makes you so precious to the Furies? So precious, that they would reach out to us with the offer for a trade? You, for our sister?”

Elijah frowned. Had Frankie done this? But how did she possibly get the Horde to agree to such a trade? He chewed his lip before answering, “She’s my friend.”

“Quinn,” said a voice from outside the cell. “Let’s send him back in pieces until we get Fran back!”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Quinn said with an easy smile. “Mia would never forgive me if I cut up such a pretty face.” She reached out after tugging off her gloves and touched Elijah’s curly hair. “You look so much like her. It’s almost like she’s here with us.”

“Mia,” he repeated breathlessly, “you knew her?”

“Of course I knew her,” Quinn said. “Had I known you were out there, I would have done something sooner.”

“Kill me?” he asked worriedly.

Quinn laughed and patted his cheek. “Kill you? No, Mia’s offspring, I wouldn’t have killed you,” she turned away, looking at Tara, who was trembling and who’s hair was whipping in an unseen wind. “Contact the Furies. Tell them we have what they want, and if they deliver your sister, they can have their halfling back in one piece.”

Tara stormed out, taking the others with her. Quinn remained, and after a moment, Bree stepped into the cell.

“Mother,” Bree said, “are you sure it’s a good idea? There are no other male Valkyrie and you’re going to give him up?”

Quinn squinted at Elijah, eyes raking over him, before she answered, “Even after a week here and a shower I can still smell him on you. That demon will come, if he’s not on his way already. We don’t need to start a war with another clan, not when we have Skoll breathing down our necks already, and the Furies trying to banish our clans out of Ironwood.”

Elijah stood still as the Admiral took his wrists, lifting his hands and looking at the wounds there. His heart was pounding with adrenaline and his body was shaking. First off, it seemed he wasn’t going to die here, second Amon may be out there right now, looking for him, and third, this woman had known his mother. 

“Can you tell me about her?” he asked. “I tried to ask Fran but she wasn’t willing to talk to me.”

Quinn let Elijah’s hands go and shook her head. “I’m not surprised, she’s as temperamental as her sister. Yes, I’ll tell you, but not here. Come on.”

When Quinn left the cell, Elijah stood there for a second, dumbfounded, until Bree grabbed his arm and dragged him out. He walked with them through the dungeon, up a stairway, and finally they were crossing through the fortress. It was medieval mixed with modern-day tech (mostly lighting and plumbing.) Elijah stopped more than once to gawk at massive oil paintings of Valkyrie in the heat of battle or passion, large marble statues of warriors dying on the field or floating into the clouds. He couldn’t stop himself, even after Bree pinched his ear and told him to stop getting distracted.

“I told you I’m an artist,” he said as he rubbed his ear and followed behind the two warriors. “I can’t help it.”

“What sort of art?” Quinn asked as they went up several flights of stairs to her private wing. Inside the two Valkyrie visibly relaxed and Quinn started to strip off her armor. Bree dropped onto a plush sofa and rested her feet on the coffee table.

“Painting, mostly,” Elijah said as he stood in the middle of the room. It was very plain, but what pieces of decor there were had obvious meaning and were there for a reason. There were many weapons here, decorating the walls, along with the skull of many large demons. Larger than Amon or Rax, making him wonder if creatures like the Balrog from Lord of the Rings were a real thing.

Elijah found himself trying to search his pockets when he remembered these weren’t his clothes and he didn’t have any paper, pencils, or even his phone for taking photos for references later. He moved around the room, looking at jewel-encrusted boxes, swords that rivaled Excalibur in beauty and design; small, hand-carved wooden animals with jeweled eyes, and ancient books made of leather and skin. He stopped in front of a stuffed bird, which looked like a mixture between a phoenix and a peacock. He sulked somewhat and turned around to find Bree watching him with a grin.

“Where did the Admiral go?” he asked, looking around.

“To use the shower,” Bree explained, “she’s been on the field for the last couple weeks. So I told you, didn’t I? It didn’t take long.” She tossed him a role of bandages.

“Yeah, but you could have told me that instead of giving me even more anxiety,” he pointed out as he wrapped his hands and arms. They were healing quickly, but little cracks still bled when he flexed his fingers, and it would all most definitely scar.

She laughed. “But if I had been wrong, then it would have made me a liar.”

“How did Frankie find out that I’m here?” Elijah asked. “How did she convince the Horde to trade for me?”

“All good questions that I have no answers to,” Bree said as she picked up an apple from a bowl of fruit on the coffee table. “Fruit?”

“I’d rather have coffee,” Elijah said. “I’m having some serious withdrawals.”

Bree laughed. “You dreamed about it a lot.”

“Oh, yeah,” he muttered as he rubbed his forehead. “You can read minds.”

Bree stood and motioned for Elijah to follow her into the small kitchen. As the coffee brewed, Elijah was finally given the chance to step outside onto a balcony. He sat down on the ground in a pool of sunlight, head tilted up and breathing deep. The air was warm and fresh and had a peculiar scent to it. He didn’t move until Bree stood, blocking the sunlight, and handed him a large cup of coffee.

“Thank you,” he sighed as he took a long drink. The Valkyrie sat down in a plush patio chair near him. Finally he looked out at the landscape in front of them. “This isn’t Earth, is it?”

“Nope,” Bree said as she leaned back in the chair. “What do you think?”

“Looks like Earth,” he said. “Kinda like Canada.”

She laughed into her coffee. “Kind of does. All green trees and big mountains, with blue skies.”

The door behind them opened and Elijah looked back as Quinn joined them, showered and clean, dressed in a long flowing white robe that contrasted nicely with her tanned skin. She was carrying a wine glass in her hand. She sat down next to Bree and looked at Elijah, who was watching her with bright, blue eyes.

“So, you want to know about your mother,” Quinn hummed after taking a drink. “What do you already know?”

“Little to nothing,” Elijah said as he leaned back.

“She was a great warrior,” Quinn said. “She lead our warriors against Skoll a dozen times over. Her sword took down swarms of goblins and giants. Anything Skoll threw at her, she killed. When she was seven months pregnant with you she was still leading warriors into battle.” She smiled softly, yet sadly. “I remember seeing her standing on the bow of the long ship and…”

“I dreamed that,” Elijah interrupted as he looked up. “I saw her there, and the wolves in the clouds.”

“You have her gift,” Quinn realized, eyes widening.

“I have--I have my own gift,” he stammered, trying to back-track.

“Yes, I heard all about it,” Quinn hummed, “but you have some of your mother in you. What else has she shown you?”

“Nothing.”

Quinn stood slowly, eyes narrowed and lips thin. “Are you lying, child?”

His gut-reaction was to lie and tell her no, but there was something in her eyes, something dark and dangerous, and he knew that this was not the kind of person one lied to. His life was literally in Quinn’s hands. He swallowed hard and instead answered, “I just have dreams, that’s all. I can’t see the future or anything like that. I just dream.”

Quinn, chin up, nodded slowly, before sitting back down.

Bree glanced between them. “How did you stay hidden for so long?” she asked. “We just heard rumors of you a couple weeks ago.”

“That’s a long story,” Elijah said as he took another long drink of coffee. He felt a happy, warm buzz from the tips of his ears to his toes.

“We have plenty of time,” Quinn said.

…

“Frankie, we all know you love that halfling, and we like him too, but we simply cannot give you the Valkyrie.”

Frankie stood in front of her commander, a tall domineering woman with wicked wit and skills. She was afraid this would be her response when she explained the situation. “I understand that but—“

She was interrupted by a howl and an ungodly crash against the door. Amon had waited long enough and was attempting to break into the mansion the horde used as their home in Ironwood city. The doors and windows were protected by magical wards but even magic had its limits.

“He’s going to get in sooner or later,” Frankie tried to reason. “And when he does you won’t be able to stop him.”

Yvette shrugged. “Amon is known through the worlds for his bloodlust and killing sprees, taking his head would be an honor.”

“He’s changed,” Frankie said, “believe it or not.”

“Not,” Yvette said. “The answer is no, that will not change.”

“But they reached out to us,” she pleaded, but Yvette only turned her attention to the warriors that had gathered around them in response to the demon outside. There was another crash and the building shook. Frankie turned, long strides taking her to the door, because if she didn’t calm the raging demon down he was going to die.

Funny, a month ago she may have gladly accepted the challenge to cut off his head. Even days ago when she found out Amon had decided to have an identity crisis right after mating with Elijah, but things had changed. Things were always changing.

When she swung open the large door it wasn’t Amon there, but Reuben. Amon was behind him, pacing furiously, tail lashing and a guttural sound vibrating from his chest; the Storm demon was completely hulked out, his skin dark grey and eyes black. 

“Reuben,” she sighed, “I expected your feathery-ass a lot sooner.” She had texted him after Elijah had gone missing and had been waiting for him to show up. If anyone could travel across worlds and find the halfling, it was the Fallen One who had practically raised him after his aunt passed away.

The large man grunted as he folded his black wings against his back. In his hand he held a silver spear. It shined in the low light of the afternoon and was polished, yet worn and well-used.

Frankie’s audible gasp preceded her blurting out, “Is that the Spear of the Huntress?”

Reuben twirled it easily. “The very one.”

“The weapon Athena used on her hunts?” she gasped.

“Yes,” Reuben said.

Frankie stepped closer, her hand itching to hold such a weapon while her heart hammered in her chest. “Where did you get his? How did you get it? Why are you here with it?”

“For Elijah,” he said simply.

Frankie’s eyes widened. “You’re telling me that you’re going to give us _that_ in exchange for the prisoner? How did you even know all this? Did Amon or Rax call you?”

“Where is your commander?” he asked.

“Wait here.”

While Frankie ran to get her, Reuben turned to Amon. The Storm demon was staring at him with black eyes.

“Are you calming down?” Reuben asked as he fluffed his large wings.

“No,” he growled back. “And I’m going with you to get Elijah back.”

“Can you trace?”

“You know I can’t,” Amon rumbled. His tail lashed in not only agitation, but pain that grew with every passing moment. He ached to have Elijah back, he needed his mate in his arms. It was a new feeling, especially for one who had never felt much of anything. But he felt like a magnet, desperate to connect to their other half, but he couldn’t find them. Nevertheless the ache and there, and because of their mating it had increased a thousand fold. This wasn’t like when he had been hunting for Elijah for three years across the globe, no, it was much more intense.

“Then you’ll wait here while I do the exchange.”

Amon’s roared scared the remaining birds from the surrounding trees. “You think I’m going to allow that?! I have been searching across the worlds for him with that Furie for a fucking week and haven’t found any signs of him, only destruction from that warlord! And now you show up here, knowing exactly what’s going on and ready to just parade into hell and get him back? How did you even know where he was? How do you know any of this?!”

Reuben smirked. “I owe you no answers, demon,” he said. “I’ve known that child for almost his entire life, while you were burning in hell for your sins. You hold no power over me and I do what I will with my Free Will. You will wait while I retrieve Elijah from the clan.”

Amon growled, ready to yell and argue more when a swarm of Furies came out to ogle the weapon the Fallen had brought. He watched as their leader handed over the Valkyrie prisoner, and watched as Reuben took to the skies with her.

“I text Rax,” Frankie said as she approached him. “He’ll be here soon to take you back to the cabin.”

“And why would I want to go back there?” he growled as his eyes remained on the empty sky.

“Because you have a lot to make up for, and who knows how long any of us have left,” she said with a bark. “Skoll was seen near the Olympian Meadows and it's only a matter of time before he crosses dimensions to Earth.”

“I won’t let anyone else take him from me,” Amon growled.

“You better not,” Frankie said with a low snarl, “or your skull and spine will be the newest decor over my mantle.”

…

The sun was setting and the coffee was gone, but Elijah hadn’t moved in an hour. Bree and Quinn had given him his space after he finally learned the truth. He had no reason to doubt Quinn’s story. When she spoke of Mia with was with warmth, affection, and a great deal of sorrow. There was no reason for the woman to lie, and Elijah finally had the truth.

After Skoll had been seemingly defeated Mia had gone into the mortal world to start a Valkyrie clan in Green Brook, a suburb of Ironwood City. There she had met Elijah’s father, Aaron. It was a whirlwind romance. They met, fell in love, and she got pregnant. But she had duties to her people, and Skoll raised his head and went after the clans. Three times Mia led her forces and allies against him in great battles worthy of minstrel songs. Before the third battle she returned to Aaron and gave birth in their bed at home. She had fled immediately, told her sisters that her child had died, and went back into war, only to die by Skoll’s sword.

Elijah felt cold. “Did she… do that because I was male? Why would she… leave me…”

“She had to leave, no matter your gender,” Quinn explained gently. “Skoll was still reigning havoc and the war was not yet done. I can tell you one thing, the last time I saw her, she was absolutely heartbroken.”

“She knew she was going to die,” Elijah realized, and he dropped his face into his hands. Mia must have known when she stepped back into the battlefield that she was going to die, and so she had lied about Elijah to keep him a secret. It was the only way to keep him safe.

Exhaustion had taken over him and he had curled up in a large patio chair, staring off into the wilderness. It was sundown when Quinn and Bree returned, along with a group of armed guards. Elijah stood slowly.

“You’re lucky, freak,” Tara said, her voice shaking. 

“Amon is here?” he asked eagerly, heart leaping in his chest.

“No, something else,” Quinn answered.

While Elijah was happy he was being rescued (was it still a rescue? After time with Quinn and Bree he didn’t think the Valkyrie would actually hurt him. If the situation was different he’d love to stay to learn more about his heritage and species) he couldn’t help but feel the cold weight of disappointment drop down into his stomach.

Amon wasn’t here. Someone else was.

Maybe there was a good explanation.

Or maybe the demon had gone off to find a new conquest.

Bree looked at him sadly and touched his arm. “Come on, Elijah.”

“You can call me Elly,” he said quietly.

“Time for you to go home, Elly.”

He looked at her as they walked. “Hey um,” he said while chewing his lip with a fang, “if we live through all this, I’d really like to talk to you again.”

Bree smiled and pulled a card from her pocket and handed it to him. Scribbled in it was her phone number. “I’d like that, too.”

He smiled and shoved the card in the pocket of the jeans he was wearing. All the clothes smelled like Bree, and he found that very comforting. 

She bumped into his shoulder. “I hope this wasn’t too awful for you.”

“Well, it sucked a lot,” he deadpanned. “Your dungeon is like, negative 5-star hotel hell.”

“Only five?” she repeated. “Hm, I’ll have to do better. Maybe we can add spikes to the walls or an acid pit.”

Elijah laughed softly and said, “Please, please promise to never put me down there again, especially after renovations.”

“Never again, cross my heart,” she promised.

When they stepped outside it was growing dark. Armored warriors stood on either side of them, swords and bows ready, all eyes on the hulking figure who stood in the courtyard, black wings open wide and cutting across the deep blue sky. Kneeling at his feet, her hands chained and suspended above her head, was Fran.

“You have some powerful friends,” Quinn commented as she stared into the glowing eyes of the ancient angel.

“Yeah,” he said. As relieved as he was, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

“Elijah,” Reuben rumbled, his voice easily carrying across the distance between them, “are you hurt?”

“No,” he said from where he stood next to Quinn with guards on either side, their spears pointed at him. Behind him Bree patted his shoulder before stepping away.

“Your hands are bandaged,” he said with a frown.

“It’s a long story,” he said. “I’m okay, honestly.”

Behind him Tara hissed. “Just take your freak and give me back my sister!”

“Tara, silence,” snapped Quinn. She raised be hands and the warriors lowered their swords. She looked st Elijah, touching his shoulder, before giving him a push. At the same time Reuben pulled the prisoner to her feet and shoved her forward.

No words were exchanged as they passed each other, and Elijah was soon swept up into the fallen angel’s massive arms. 

“Thanks for coming for me,” Elijah said, not realizing how much he had missed him. Reuben had never been a hugger, so it was the first time that Elijah remembered ever being embraced by the man, but damn, he had thought Amon radiated power but it was nothing compared to Reuben.

“You never have to thank me,” the Fallen answered as he turned away from the group. In a rush of cold wind he leaped into the air, and everything went black and quiet.

Elijah may have yelled, he couldn’t be sure because he couldn’t hear anything, but the next second they were back in the mountains outside the cabin.

Elijah covered his mouth before he could puke. Once his stomach dropped back where it should be he asked, “What the hell was that?”

“We went through the space between dimensions and time,” the angel answered easily as he folded his wings back.

“That doesn’t tell me anything.”

“It’s how angels travel,” he explained with a laugh.

“How did you find me, Reuben?” he asked as he looked at the man’s face. “How did you know… where I was, who to trade for? I don’t get it. I thought maybe Frankie set all this up?”

“I had a, hm, inside informant.”

Elijah frowned before he said, surprised, “Bree?”

“Yes,” he said as he set Elijah on his feet. But when the halfling hesitated, Reuben crouched to look at him. “Elly?”

“Why are we here?” he asked quietly. “Can’t I go home? Or back to the Gallery with you?”

Reuben smiled gently and cupped Elijah’s face in his hands. “You’re safer here, and someone is waiting for you. Go inside. Oh, and here,” he pulled a cell phone from his pocket, “take this so we can keep in contact.”

 _Someone is waiting for you._ Elijah had no doubts as to who it was, but did he really want to see him? He hugged the angel, thanking him, and stepped back. In a snap Reuben was gone and Elijah was standing in the cold, alone.

Heaving a heavy sigh he turned and went to the cabin. The door was unlocked and inside it was blissfully warm and smelled like coffee and cinnamon.

“Elly?”

Elijah took a deep breath before turning around. Amon stood there, dressed in the most sinful pair of jeans Elijah had ever seen on a person and a simple black button-up shirt that was open. He looked good, really good. In fact, Elijah hated how fucking attractive the demon looked. His horns were polished, the gold in hair twinkled in the light, and he smelled positively delicious.

“Hey,” Elijah said quietly.

Amon’s face pinched into a frown, but it wasn’t his strange attire that caught his attention, but the bandages on his hands and halfway up his arms.

“Did they hurt you?” he asked while rushing forward.

“No,” Elijah said while quickly stepping back. “I did this when I was kidnapped.”

Having Elijah back away from him hurt more than a thousand years of torture. “Elijah--”

“Wh-why are you even here?” he suddenly snapped as he stared at the demon with hot, angry tears. 

“What?” Amon asked in shock. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”

“You left me,” he said as his heart palpated in his chest. The pain was building and building, and all he wanted to do was throw himself in Amon’s arms, and be covered in his scent, and feel his lips on his skin. But if the demon didn’t want him, then he had no reason to even be here. Elijah shook his head. “If you don’t want me, you can tell me. I’ll understand.” 

Amon stared at him for a moment, jaw slack and eyes wide. He hadn’t realized how much damage he had caused the young omega. He knew the pain he was going through himself, but for some reason he hadn’t thought that Elijah would be feeling it too; the omega was practically falling apart in front of him. 

“Oh, Elly…” he dropped to his knees, head bowed and hands in front of him. “I fucked up. All this is new to me and I freaked out. I’m so, so sorry. _Of course_ I want you, all I’ve done is think of you and I was looking all over hell for you. I fucked up. _Please_ forgive me.”

“This is new for me, too,” Elijah reminded him softly as he rubbed the tears from his eyes He stared at the demon and the ache in his chest grew more and more, until his heart was pounding and his body was quaking. He felt a pull inside him, trying to urge him forward, because all he wanted was Amon. _Who had looked for him. Who hadn’t just abandoned him._ “Storm demons don’t have fated mates.”

“They don’t,” Amon agreed, “but I do. Please Elly. _Please_ don’t leave me.”

Elijah choked on a sob and buried his face in his hands. Instantly arms were around him and he was being pulled into and tucked against Amon’s chest. The pain in his own chest stopped immediately, with the demon’s touch and scent washing over him like a spring rain. He whined and wrapped his arms around him as he sobbed against him.

“I’ll never leave you again,” Amon promised as he knelt on the floor, Elijah pulled against him. Amon couldn’t pinpoint the moment his feelings for Elijah changed from the barbaric alpha need to possess to feelings of admiration and love, and he didn’t need to. He just knew it; he felt it in his heart which he had thought would never have room for such feelings. And now that his mate was back in his arms, it cemented the feelings. If Elijah would forgive him, he would make it up to him, every day.

“I love you.”

Elijah was suddenly quiet. He was still wrapped in Amon’s arms, and he had tucked his face into his neck where his alpha pheromones were the strongest. “Wh-What?” he whispered in disbelief.

“I love you,” Amon repeated.

Elijah closed his eyes as a cry caught in his throat. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”


	15. The Lay of Our Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this chapter, because they deserve it, and so do we.

“So, what happened here?” Amon asked as he delicately unwound the bandages on Elijah’s hands and arms. Beneath the skin was darkly bruised and cut and scraped, but whatever salve the Valkyrie had put on had sped up the healing.

“I used a too much lightning,” Elijah said from where he sat on the marble counter in the bathroom. “Bree said it’s because I haven’t trained and kind of just… exploded in self-defense.”

“That makes sense,” he said as he carefully washed the wounds and then traced his fingers over the lightning shaped marks. While the halfling had seemingly accepted his many apologies he still had his guard up, and Amon realized yet again how important spending time together after mating was. “Did you take many of them out?”

Elijah shrugged as he cleared his throat. “Yeah. You could say that.”

He smiled, proud if his little mate. “Are you hungry?” he asked, “I was going to make you lunch.”

Elijah was feeling rather famished from his time with the Valkyrie, but he smelled too much like the dungeon for him to feel comfortable enough to enjoy a meal. “I want to shower and change first,” he said as he hopped down. He had grabbed his bag of clothing and went through it, pulling out clean sweatpants and a hoodie. He could feel Amon hovering around behind him.

The demon hadn’t left his side since he had returned to the cabin, and while he looked calm on the outside, Elijah could feel that he was very tense. Why? Was he afraid Elijah would run away (which was stupid, they were in the mountains, where would he go?) or that he might be kidnapped again? Considering how insistent the Valkyrie were at getting rid of Elijah because his mate would be coming for him, he didn’t think anyone else would try to take him. It sounded like getting between a alpha demon and their mate was one of the dumber things a person could do.

“I’ll wait here for you,” Amon offered.

Elijah turned to him. Amon’s tail was flicking and his eyes were on locked on Elijah’s hands. “You could join me,” he suggested.

Amon’s head snapped up. “Really?”

Elijah shrugged and started to undress, his back to the demon. He could hear the rustle of his clothing as it fell to the ground behind him before Elijah stepped into the large shower and turned on the hot water.

Maybe it was because when he was close to Amon because he couldn’t stop himself from relaxing. He couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through him, and the sense of security and adoration and--love. Amon _loved_ him. He could have been lying, but the words had been said with such passion and desperation that Elijah doubted that. Amon didn’t seem like the kind of person who said ‘I love you’ to anyone.

_And I love him back,_ but he hadn’t said it. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. Not yet. His heart was too fragile, pieces of it were slowly coming back together. Any little thing threatened to break it, and he couldn’t go through that pain again. So he selfishly held the words to himself, waiting until his heart was strong enough to be exposed again.

He wet his hair and grabbed the shampoo and started to scrub. He was just working up a good lather when Amon’s large hands slid over his own. Elijah dropped his hands and bowed his head, sighing softly as hands that could crush skulls gently massaged his scalp.

He let out a soft, content sigh as Amon then rinsed his hair and gently ran his hands through the heavy, wet curls. His hands stopped for a moment, only to return with a soapy loofa and he turned Elijah around and started to wash over Elijah’s shoulders and then down his back.

When Elijah started to purr softly, Amon felt a jolt of pride. His little mate was feeling happy; content enough that he was purring. He continued to wash over Elijah’s back, down his hips, stopping short of his ass and then slid his soapy hands down over his chest.

“Mm…” Elijah sighed heavily. Amon’s hands were gentle and soft, sliding over his nipples and then down, washing over his stomach before stopping just short of his groin.

They both stopped. Amon dropped his nose to the top of Elijah’s head and inhaled. He waited for Elijah to decide where this was going. The omega’s scent of arousal was light and fragrant, but that didn’t mean he wanted anything more right now.

Elijah, panting, slid his hands over Amon’s soapy ones as his heart began to pound. He could stop this right now, Amon was clearly giving him the option. But he could feel the demon’s radiating heat behind him, and every stroke from his hands was like fire on his skin.

Slowly he closed his fingers around the demon’s wrists and guided his hands down. Behind him Amon exhaled loudly and slowly slid his soapy hands over Elijah’s slowly hardening cock.

There were so many things Amon wanted to do and taste, and he couldn’t think of a better time to make his mate feel good. Good, pampered and appreciated. So while one hand stroked over the halfling’s cock, Amon knelt behind him as he kissed down his spine until he reached the swell of his ass. There he used his other hand to massage his ass before he started to—

“Oh shit—“ Elijah yelped when Amon, while slowly jerking him off, started to lick and suck at his hole. He leaned forward, hands on the tile wall, water pouring over his head and down his front, as a high-pitched whine sounded from his throat.

Amon growled in response, now eagerly lapping at the slick that was produced as the omega grew more and more aroused. His hand pumped the halfling’s cock slowly, in time with the swipes of his tongue.

“Oh god, oh god,” Elijah moaned as he curled his claws into the tile wall. “Amon, Amon _yes_ , yes fuck—“ Fire built and built and somewhere lightning struck as Elijah rocked his hips forward and back. Amon’s tongue was sliding into him, teasing him, and Elijah felt his knees wobble. Then Amon’s hand slid away from his cock and his large hands were turning Elijah around, so he was looking down at the kneeling demon.

Amon licked his lips. He had a raging hard-on but ignored it in favor of pleasuring his mate. He reached out, sliding his hands up the omega’s wet legs and hips and pulled him closer so he could take his cock into his mouth. He groaned with pleasure, swirling his tongue over the hardened length and over precum that tasted as good as his slick.

“Goddamnit,” Elijah moaned loudly, his hands dropping the demon’s hair. He buried his fingers in the heavy, wet braids as Amon growled. His tail flicked around behind him and he dug his fingers into Elijah’s ass. 

Elijah leaned back, weak-kneed and trembling, his entire body on fire with waves of pleasure. He moaned and whined, pulled Amon’s hair, and when the demon slid two fingers up into him, lightning made the cabin shake.

Amon, with his talented tongue and eager groans, sucked and licked until his lips and chin were wet with drool and his fingers were buried as far as possible up Elijah’s eager ass. He looked up, eyes glowing with excitement, as his mate moaned and slowly rocked his hips forwards and back.

When Elijah came Amon sucked his cock until it was soft and Elijah had grabbed his horns to force his mouth away.

Elijah slowly dropped into the other demon’s lap, breathing heavy and shivering, as the hot water was finally running out. Amon reached over to turn the water off before standing with Elijah in his arms.

“Um,” Elijah said as he was set on his feet, only to wobble unsteadily. He grabbed a towel to dry off as Amon did the same. He couldn’t help but stare at the demon’s erection, wondering what was stopping him from bending Elijah over and fucking his brains out.

“I forgive you, you know,” Elijah said as he pulled on his clothing. “And not because of what we just did. I… I understand how you could have been scared.”

Amon, after pulling on his jeans (a difficult thing given his current state of arousal) looked over st Elijah who was towel-drying his mess of curly hair. “Do I deserve it?”

Elijah laughed. “Of course you do.”

“I feel like I haven’t earned it—“ his words ended in a sharp yelp when Elijah wound up his damp towel and used it to whip him in the butt. “Hey!”

Elijah laughed and dropped the towel as he covered his mouth. “Sorry!” he snorted between giggles.

“Oh, you will be,” Amon growled playfully. He grabbed him and pulled him off his feet and nipped at his neck before giving him an obnoxiously wet kiss.

“Bleh!” Elijah laughed. “Stop it!”

Suddenly it all clicked into place: how important it was to spend time together after mating. He gave him another annoyingly wet kiss before Elijah squirmed out of his grasp.

Elijah bolted out of the bathroom and down the hallway, Amon darting after him. He used his speed and agility to avoid the demon for a good ten minutes before Amon caught him, or rather tackled him, in the study. Elijah hit the floor with a gasp and a laugh as Amon loomed over him, tail lashing and eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Guess you caught me,” he said as he ran his hands up the demon’s shoulders to touch his face.

Amon purred deeply in his chest. “Guess I did.” Elation spread through him when Elijah kissed him. It was soft, and sweet, just like the omega, with a touch of tongue. He let the omega take the lead, kissing him as deeply and wet as he chose. When Elijah began to purr again he jumped.

Amon laughed. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought I imagined that earlier,” he said as he touched his chest. The purring had ceased, but he knew now that he hadn’t just imagined it. “I seriously purred?”

“It happens usually when you’re very content and happy,” Amon explained as he settled his body comfortably against Elijah’s, who was still beneath him.

“I’ve felt you do it,” Elijah pointed out with a grin.

Amon shrugged and grinned. “Well, I guess that you make me happy.”

Elijah blushed up to the tips of his pointed ears as his heart did a happy flip in his chest. He kissed Amon again, a bit more insistent this time.

He wanted to have sex, right now, but a part of him worried about waking up alone again. He swallowed hard and nuzzled his way to the demon’s neck. He inhaled the deep, rich scent and let the tension drain from his body. He sighed. And Amon purred.

Amon started when Elijah’s hands were suddenly working at the button and zipper of his jeans. 

“Elly?” Amon asked, his voice jumping into a groan as the omega’s hand shoved its way down his pants to grope him.

“I missed you,” Elijah said with a whine, the very kind of whine that attracted alphas like Amon. “When I wasn’t being mad at you.”

Amon ground his teeth and lifted his hips as Elijah squeezed his still hard and aching shaft. “Sh-shit,” he gasped. He knelt over the omega and roughly jerked his jeans down enough to free his cock while Elijah wiggled easily out of his sweatpants. 

“Are you sure your ready for me?” he asked as he easily slid two fingers into him. Elijah let out a desperate moan. “I’d better make sure your wet enough.”

“ _Oooooh_ —“ Elijah moaned loudly as the alpha pumped two and then three fingers into him. He spread his legs wide and groped for anything he could hold onto, and he ended up sinking his claws into Amon’s shoulders. His lower body was quivering and he could feel wetness on his inner thighs, spread from Amon’s rough attentions, which sent jolts of pleasure through him. He cried out and gasped, finally biting at the alpha’s neck to get his attention.

“Please, please,” he begged as he clenched around the fingers, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t his alpha’s cock, which is what he needed; what he was burning for.

Amon groaned as he withdrew his fingers. He stared down at Elijah. His shirt had ridden up to reveal his belly and his skin was flushed and his ass wet and open, ready to be taken.

Elijah stared up at him. Amon’s eyes were black, fierce and frightening to anymore else, but Elijah saw a protector in them, he saw an alpha that loved him. “I’m yours,” he gasped.

_How did I walk away from this?_ Amon wondered as he positioned himself between legs that opened wider when he looked down. Elijah lifted his hips, presenting himself as much as possible. _God, he’s beautiful._ He met Elijah’s eyes, bright and hungry, before driving into him with one hard movement.

Elijah didn’t make a sound; his mouth fell open and his head fell back, eyes closed tight and claws sinking deep into Amon’s skin. His entire body was pulsing with pleasure and again, it was so overwhelming he almost asked to stop. More wetness dribbled from around the impossibility tight fit of the demon’s cock, making Elijah cry.

“Amon,” he breathed. “You’re— _big_.”

“Does it feel good?” Amon asked as he teasingly pushed forward without pulling out and thrusting like his omega wanted.

“Yes,” he whined. He stared up at him, eyes shimmering with tears, before begging, “It feels good and it-it also hurts--you’re so big. But I want it. I want you.” He was hot, almost feverish. His rim was aching and pulsating around the cock that was resting inside of him. He needed Amon to move, he needed to be filled. 

“Do you want to be filled with my seed?” he rasped.

“Yes!” he cried, and his desperation was rewarded with a hard thrust. He saw a bright flash of pain as his body stretched to take the cock, followed by stars and then finally, pleasure. He moaned loudly and let his legs fall open and his head back, open and submissive. Just for his alpha.

Amon groaned at the sight, arousing him more and bringing out the monster inside him. When he bowed his head to bite at Elijah’s nipples through his shirt, the halfling responded by licking at his horns which were near his face.

Amon stumbled in his thrusts and moaned. “ _Elijah_.”

Seeing his response, Elijah did it again, and grabbed both horns with his hands. He pressed his lips against the black ridges and open-mouth kissed along them, using his tongue and his lips. Amon shivered, his entire body taunt and ready to snap. 

Amon didn’t know it was possible to orgasm from having his horns suckled, it certainly was not the first time someone had touched or licked his them, but the feel of his omega’s delicate yet sinful little mouth moving along one horn and then switching to the other, followed with his little moans of pleasure, had Amon rocking into Elijah as he came, filling him with hot seed, while he smothered his groans against the halfling's chest.

Panting loudly, and still buried deep inside his mate, Amon raised his head to stare at the halfling. Elijah was blushing hotly, and his lips were pink and plump. His blue eyes were bright and sparkling, and there was a joy there, a shining warmth and happiness. Elijah’s grin lit up Amon’s world.

“Wow,” Elijah said. He could feel that Amon was still hard inside him and he started to wiggle. The potent demon semen was giving him all kinds of pleasure. In fact, he felt almost drunk. “Amon…”

“Don’t worry, we aren’t done yet,” he said as he pulled out, spilling seed and slick all over Elijah’s thighs and the floor, before he plunged back in. It was rough, but Elijah was more than ready for it now. The omega let out a cry that drown out Amon’s rumbling growl.

“Yes! Yes, _yes_ ,” he sobbed. “Amon—I can’t—it’s too so good—“

“Shh,” he soothed as he rutted into him, hard and fast. “I’ll give you all you want, I’ll fill you even more.”

The wet, sticky slap of their bodies filled the study, along with the heavy perfume of their mating. Amon grinned as he pulled out, spilling more seed on the now ruined rug, before driving back into his mate.

The entire cabin was going to be stained with the scent of their mating and knowing that was absolutely exhilarating. 

“Amon, Amon…” Elijah whined as the alpha grabbed his hips and tilted the up while he loomed over him, fucking him hard and deep. Elijah grabbed his cock, moving his hand with the alpha’s thrusts, and when he came it was with a sob and a rumble of thunder. 

He continued to cry as Amon fucked him, sweat running over his muscles and horns gleaming in the low light of the room. He leaned over the small omega, kissing at his chest and neck, where he without warning, bit hard.

Amon came and Elijah went limp, whimpering as teeth sliced deep and created a perfect mark of the demon’s mouth. He hung onto Amon as the demon filled him again, and his entire body shook and his head buzzed. He cried, he giggled, before he closed his eyes and passed out.

…

Elijah woke covered in heavy blankets. Strong arms were around him and he was sitting with his back to Amon’s wide chest. They were still in the study, but had moved from the floor to a large, overstuffed chair.

“Back with me?” Amon chuckled as he nuzzled Elijah’s pointed ear.

“Yeah. Did I pass out?” he asked hoarsely. He was naked and could feel that Amon had cleaned him up. He also felt sore as hell! When he tried to shift around his lower back and thighs screamed in protest and he paled in pain.

“Does it hurt?” Amon asked worriedly. After coming back from his orgasm, and he had started to clean them both up, he had seen the bruises blossoming all over Elijah’s fair skin.

_He’s still mortal you idiot!_ So he had quickly disposed of soiled towels and clothing and then wrapped Elijah up and sat with him in a chair that was directed to one of the large windows with an amazing view of the mountains.

“Yeah. Worse than that first time,” he said with a sigh. But as much as his body hurt, he also felt _good._ Really good. He was warm and completely satisfied. “It was worth it.”

“That may be, but I’ll be more gentle next time,” he promised. It would be so easy to lose control and actually hurt him. He couldn’t do that. 

Elijah reached back to rub his neck and flinched in pain. That’s right, Amon had bitten him. His fingers came back with blood on them and Amon leaned down to clean the wound with his tongue.

He knew what the mark meant. Amon had officially claimed Elijah as his own. Other alpha males would see the scar once it healed and know he had a mate. He shuddered as the realization washed over him. Soon tears followed.

Amon fretted worriedly. Feelings and emotions were not his specialty, and he tightened his arms around Elijah. “What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he sniffled. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m just feeling really emotional.”

Not knowing what else to do, he simply sat and held Elijah until the tears stopped and his stomach started to rumble. Elijah remembered what Amon had said earlier about food, and he shifted (carefully) around in his lap. “Did you mention food earlier?”

“Yes,” the demon said, “I was going to cook for you. Whatever you wanted, if I can make it, that is.”

The demon’s grin, accompanied by a little crinkle in his nose and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes had Elijah’s heart skipping a couple beats. Amon was normally drop dead gorgeous and fierce, but when he smiled? It was like sunlight.

“Can I wear your shirt? I don’t want to wander around naked.”

Having Elijah naked was exactly what he wanted, but knowing that his mate would be in _his_ clothing was just as much of a delight. So he pulled off his long-sleeved t-shirt and gave it to Elijah, who pulled it on and folded the blanket.

In the kitchen Amon tried to get Elijah to sit and rest, but the omega insisted on helping. There was coffee already brewed so they decided to make breakfast (not caring that it was nightfall.). The domestication of the act wasn’t lost on either of them, and Elijah was shocked at just how easily they worked together. 

Amon couldn’t actually cook (he burned the first set of pancakes) but Elijah had been making large “Sunday” brunches for his aunt and her church friends for years until her death. Soon there were enough blueberry pancakes to feed an army (or just one large demon,) along with scrambled eggs, toast, fresh fruit and bacon. 

“So how does Rax feel about us eating all his food?” Elijah asked as he sat down across from the Storm demon.

“I think he’s more upset with us for fucking in his bed.”

Elijah coughed up the coffee he had been drinking. “Wh-What?” he hacked. “Did you know it was his bed when you got in it?”

Amon laughed. “I knew it was a bed he had slept in. How was I supposed to know it was his master bed?”

“You’re horrible,” Elijah said as he finally cleared his throat.

“I hope it doesn’t bother you too much because I plan on taking you in it later,” he said in a tone that was entirely far too casual.

“Maybe I’m too sore,” he said, only half-joking. He really was sore, and while Amon’s shirt may hide the bruises from the demon’s hands, he was very much aware that they were there. Did Rax have any ibuprofen here? _Maybe there’s some in my bag._

“I don’t have to put my dick in you for us to ruin another set of sheets,” he pointed out.

Elijah blushed hotly. “Wow, poetry. You’re a man of many talents, aren’t you?” he said as he rubbed the bandage he had placed over the claim-bite. On contact he felt a warm rush in his chest.

He laughed as he cut into the stack of pancakes. “You’ve been witness to many.”

“Mm!” he said after a drink. “Speaking is talent. You have got to teach me to fight. I have to be able to defend myself if you’re not around.”

Amon frowned. “I’ll always be here.”

“Not always,” Elijah pointed out, “that would be impossible and honestly, annoying. I like my space, and I’m sure you do, too.”

Amon’s tail flicked. It was true. Whenever this was all over (and if they survived) they wouldn’t be tied together. Amon had things be liked to do that Elijah would definitely not enjoy, and Elijah liked to spend hours painting and drawing. Amon hoped to let Elijah go back to as much of a normal life as possible, which meant that there would be times they wouldn’t be together.

“Fine, I’ll teach you. But after we both get some sleep.” Amon hadn’t slept the whole week Elijah had been missing and the halfling, although looking better after a shower, sex, and food, still looked far too pale and worn down. They both needed a lot of rest.

Elijah agreed easily. After they ate he walked with Amon to the bedroom they had first shared. The sheets and blankets were clean and the curtains had been pulled, casting the bedroom in soft shadows. Elijah crawled into the large bed, and quickly attached himself to Amon’s side. The demon’s arms closed around him and his nose tucked into his hair.

Elijah was asleep instantly. The mixture of great sex, warm food, and his alpha’s rich scent was the perfect combination for the omega to immediately crash. 

…

He was standing in a lush, green meadow. Ahead of him was a massive wall of stone, and when Elijah craned his head up, he saw that it was a mountain that disappeared up into the clouds. Clouds that were starting to turn grey and churn. Elijah had seen those kinds of clouds before, and he frowned as he started to back up. He shuffled his feet, stepping through grass that was suddenly dying and growing hot and sharp.

Elijah yelped and stepped back, watching as the ground beneath him blackened. Above him a low rumble started to sound from the mountain, and large boulders the size of city buses started to fall around him. Elijah started to run, rushing into ash and smoke, stumbling as it started to rain blood and he was soon slipping in red mud.

Shielding his eyes from the bloody rain he craned his head up, watching as figures moved across the sky. He could hear the clatter of metal and wood, the screams of men and women. A low rumbling roar drown it out and Elijah looked around and found a sword lying across the ground. He picked it up, watching as lightning spread across the blade.

“Mom?” he finally called out. “Mom, are you here? Where am I?”

Behind him he was answered by a loud, frightened whinny. He turned around and saw a large door carved into a hill. When he approached it, the door cracked open, and Elijah slipped inside. Using the glow off the sword he made his way through tunnels, going deeper and deeper, until he walked into an enormous cavern. There was a pool of water and a silver tree growing from the center, with leaves that glowed like lights. But it wasn’t the tree that caught his attention, or the lush green grasses growing all around him, the large white flowers, or the intricate carvings that covered the walls, no, it was the two dozen winged horses standing in the pasture, all staring at him.

The equines whinnied with worry as the ground shook and far above them a battle raged. The sword Elijah head glowed brighter and brighter, and the pegasus started to fluff their wings and rear up. 

“I know you’re there, little one,” rumbled a deep voice. “Are you coming for me, Valkyrie? Because I’m coming for you.”

Elijah felt a cold shock of dread wash over him. He dropped the sword as the ceiling started to cave in. Fear washed over him, spreading through him like ice water. He closed his eyes and started to scream--

“Elijah! Elly! Wake up!”

Elijah opened his eyes to a bright flash of white and the smell of burning sheets and wood. When he sat up the lightning that had been crawling over his skin and burning the sheets and the bed stopped. The shirt he had been wearing had been burned away and the marks on his hands had reopened and were dripping with blood.

Amon, after using a blanket to smother the flames caused by lightning, turned to the halfling on the bed. Elijah was more pale than he had ever seen him, his eyes were like saucers and he was shaking uncontrollably. Amon frowned and knelt on the floor in front of his mate.

“Elly?” he whispered. He reached to take his shaking hands in his own, smearing them both with blood. “Elly?”

“I-I heard Skoll,” he gasped out. “He knows where I am. And I know where the pegasus are.”

Amon frowned. “It was just a dream--”

“We both know that isn’t true,” Elijah said as tears poured from his eyes. He looked at Amon before launching into his arms. He hid his face into the alpha’s neck and sobbed. “I saw a great battle in the meadows around Olympus. There was so much… so much death in the sky. And the pegasus are hidden there.”

“The Olympian Meadows?” Amon asked with a jolt.

_“Skoll was seen near the Olympian Meadows and it's only a matter of time before he crosses dimensions to Earth.”_

“Is that what they’re called?” Elijah asked shakily. 

Amon shifted, holding his mate against his chest, letting him cry out his fear, as he grabbed his cell phone with his free hand and quickly sent Frankie a text. If Elijah saw Skoll outside of Olympus, and the pegasus were there…but did Skoll know the pegasus were actually there? Maybe he didn’t, and he was just going to wage war on the gods. He had been leaving a massive wave of death in his wake, and armies were starting to gather to fight him, but if he could acquire any piece of ancient weaponry then--

“What do we do?” Elijah asked as he calmed down. He looked over his shoulder and frowned. “Shit, I burned the bed.”

“It’s just a bed,” Amon said softly.

He leaned back, staring at the demon’s bare chest. He reached out and touched the grey skin there. “But I didn’t hurt you?”

Amon had woken to Elijah’s screams and lightning ripping through them both. “No,” he said. 

“That’s strange, isn’t it?” Elijah said quietly. He swallowed hard and looked around. It was dark outside, solid black, and he could hear the wind rattling the windows. He shivered and looked back at the demon. “Amon. I need you.”

Amon frowned worriedly. He leaned down to kiss his mate, giving him what he wanted, what he needed. He licked into his mouth slowly, savouring his sweet taste. He kissed away his tears, mouthed over the bandage on his neck, kissed down his collar and his chest. Elijah gasped, running his hands up over Amon’s horns, making the demon groan.

“Come on,” he grunted as he lifted Elijah and stood, carrying his mate out of the room and to one of the sitting rooms. Amon lay on the sofa with Elijah sitting across his torso. His little mate was naked, and his skin was slowly regaining color and growing flushed. 

Sex may not be the most constructive solution to the horrible vision he had just seen, but if it was what Elijah needed to calm down, then Amon wasn’t going to argue. 

Elijah sighed shakily as he leaned over the massive demon, kissing his chest and nipples, running his tongue over scars, kissing down and down until he was sitting across his legs and touching his lips to Amon’s impressive cock. He ran his tongue over the head, moaning at the tangy taste.

Amon’s hips flinched and he groaned. “I thought I was supposed to be pleasuring you?”

“Maybe I want to do this,” Elijah said with a little laugh. He looked up, meeting the demon’s darkening eyes, before he took him into his mouth.

It had been quite a while since Elijah had given anyone a blowjob, and he had never tried giving it to anyone with such a big damn cock. There was no way he was going to fit it all in his mouth, not without dislocating his jaw, but it didn’t seem to matter, because the moment he took in what he could, Amon let out a guttural moan.

Elijah moaned softly, the sound turning into a whine in his throat. He had never been a fan of blowjobs, but he had still given them, but this was… different. He moaned louder, a purr vibrating in his chest, as he licked and sucked, and he didn’t care that there was drool on his lips and chin or that his lungs were burning for air. He slid his lips further down the length, until he gagged, but he still didn’t stop.

Amon’s hand touched the back of his head, tenderly petting through his heavy curls, but never once forcing Elijah down for more. When he rubbed over the bandage on Elijah’s neck the omega let another throaty whine, as pleasure tingled down his spine.

Not until the instinctive need to breathe took over did he raised his head to gasp. His face was red, his eyes watering and his chin wet. He stroked his hands over Amon’s cock, feeling every vein bulging out of the velvety soft skin. While he caught his breath Amon continued to get through his hair, before cupping the back of his head and making Elijah look up.

“Trying to suck the life out of me?” he rumbled.

Elijah blushed more, if possible. “I’m not usually so enthusiastic but something about the way you taste and feel in my mouth makes me crazy.”

_Fuck!_ Amon could smell Elijah’s arousal, when he licked his lips he could taste it on his tongue. When Elijah’s shifted he could feel the wetness there. His omega was ripe and ready. So he gently dragged Elijah forward by his waist and let his heavy cock rest against his backside. Elijah then leaned up and slid back—

“Aaah—“ Elijah moaned as he slowly sat down. In this position he has more control, so he paused and wiggled, sat up a little and then slid down again. He leaned forward, curling his claws into the demon’s stomach as he slowly rolled his hips.

Watching Elijah as he slowly took in his cock was as torturous as it was beautiful, and it took every ounce of willpower to not grab him and shove him down. But one look at the bruises still coloring his lower body was enough of a reminder for Amon: he’s mortal. Be gentle.

When Elijah finally sat down all the way, they both stopped and just breathed. Having Amon in him in his position made him shockingly aware of the difference in their sizes. He could also feel the tension in the demon beneath him; Amon was struggling to remain still and not take control. He lay motionless (although shaking) letting Elijah take his time and decide how they were going to do this.

“Sweetling,” Amon said, “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

“So are you,” he rasped as he looked down at his flushed, sweaty skin. Amon’s large hands were still attached securely to his waist and it was a wonderful anchor for them both.

He finally moved, aided by Amon’s hands, moving very slow at first, just savoring the feeling of Amon sliding out, spreading slick and precum everywhere, and then dropping back down and feeling every inch of cock spear him. He whined and he moaned, and beneath him Amon breathed heavy and growled in his chest.

Closing his eyes he fell into a steady rhythm, moving at a slower pace than he had experienced with Amon, but it suited Elijah well. It didn’t hurt, and he could feel _everything_. He sped up when he wanted to, bouncing up and down as tears ran down his face, and slowed when his back started to ache.

When he was covered in sweat and slick and tears, he looked down at the demon. Amon was watching him with black eyes, fierce and focused, and when Elijah whined and nodded, he took over.

In one swift motion he had Elijah on his back on the couch and was pounding between his legs. They were both ready to come, the fire building hotter and hotter. Elijah came first, sobbing and arching his back, and when his body closed around Amon the alpha shuddered and released, once again filling his delicate mate with his seed.

Amon slumped over Elijah, resting his head on the halfling’s chest. Gentle fingers started to comb through his hair, and he rumbled a happy purr and kissed up Elijah’s chest to his neck and then his cheek. 

“That wasn’t too rough, was it?” he asked.

“Mm, no,” he sighed. He was full and happy, and rush of endorphins again had him feeling fuzzy and tipsy, and it chased away the nightmare for now. He closed his eyes, only to wince when Amon pulled out of him. He sat up and said, “I’ve never had sex that was so damn messy.”

Amon laughed loudly. “Good thing we have that extravagant bathroom just down the hall.”

“I can walk,” Elijah said as he sat up, but when his curled his toes into the carpet he could feel the pain radiating in his back. He looked at Amon, who was smiling softly. Elijah blushed. “Maybe I can’t.”

Amon scooped him up easily and kissed him. “I don’t mind carrying you.”

“Well, it is your fault.”

“Mine?”

“If you didn’t have such a giant dick I’d be able to stand up.”

Amon howled with laughter and stumbled. And as he recovered and continued down the hallway, it occurred that yes he loved Elijah, and the halfling was his mate, but also that Elijah made him _happy._ He made him laugh. It was one thing to feel constant carnal lust, but happiness? Joy? 

Amon had found something he had never once in his life looked for because it wasn’t something that should exist. Now that he had Elijah, now that he loved and cherished him, he would never let anyone take the halfling away. Which meant they were going to have to do something very difficult and stupid.

They were going to have to go to the Olympian Meadows and get to the pegasus before Skoll.


	16. Destroyer of the Universe

Elijah stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He moved his head to one side to look at his neck as he slowly peeled off the bandage covering Amon’s claim mark. His skin around the bite was darkly bruised, and the mark itself swollen and sensitive. He touched it with his fingertips, feeling a spark of pain and warmth, before he soaked a washcloth in warm water to clean it. Once that was done, he left it unbandaged. If anyone saw him, he wanted them to know he was spoken for.

It was a strange thought. Elijah had never thought he would find someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with (and in this case, his immortal life,) but he had. Amon may be a seven-foot Storm Demon, who wasn’t perfect and made mistakes, but he was learning from them and trying to be a better mate. Elijah believed him, he believed when Amon told him that he loved him, and that he would protect him forever.

Elijah picked up his cell phone and snapped a selfie, head tilted to the side to show off the bite-mark; his pointed ears were red-tipped as he blushed. He sent the photo to Frankie and Reuben, no explanation needed. Then he brushed his teeth, fixed his hair, dressed, and left the bathroom.

Elijah found Amon in the kitchen, standing over an assortment of weapons and two packed duffle bags.

The halfling frowned as he crossed his arms and stepped around the large demon. “Rax might be okay with us fucking in his bed, but stealing his weapons? Might be where he draws the line.” 

Amon’s tail snaked out and slid up his mate’s leg and thigh. “We’re going to the Olympian Meadows.”

Elijah had been in the process of slapping the tail away, before he could slid between his legs, when Rax dropped the bomb. He looked up, blue eyes wide. “What? _What?_ The Meadows? Why?”

“Because the pegasus are there,” Amon explained. “You said it yourself, remember? Skoll suspects it, but he needs you to find them. So, we’re going there first, to get to them, and stop him from destroying the world.”

“Th-that’s like, a lot but just us-- are you serious?” Elijah asked. “What can we do? Or-or what can I do?”

Amon turned to look down at his little mate. “I don’t know. This is probably a huge fucking mistake.”

Elijah’s phone pinged and he looked at it. The text was from Frankie, congratulating him on the mate-claim. “Should I tell Frankie?”

Amon’s tail snapped. That fucking Fury would fry his balls if she knew what they were about to do. He exhaled. “Not yet,” he said, “first let’s go there and see if… anything is going on. Skoll probably isn’t even there.” _Probably._

The warlord’s words echoed in his mind. “What if it’s a trap?”

“No one knows we’re going there,” Amon reasoned. “It’ll be okay.”

Elijah picked up a shortsword. “So… all the weapons are for what, then?”

Amon looked back. “Precaution. Do you know how to do use that?”

“Yes, of course. When we haven’t been fucking like rabbits I’ve been learning to use a different kind of sword,” Elijah said with a playful smirk.

The demon laughed. “Oh, right. Slipped my mind.”

“Mm-hm,” Elijah hummed as he swung the sword. It was short and light in his hand, and surprisingly easy to handle. “But even if I did um, learn how to use this, I can’t kill a warlord… My mother couldn’t even kill him…”

Amon turned around. Yes, that warlord had killed his mate’s mother. This warlord had slaughtered hundreds-of-thousands with his armies, he had nearly slaughtered one pillar of the Tree of Life all by himself. He cupped his mate’s face and leaned down to kiss him. “I love you. And for you, I’ll kill that warlord.”

“Just don’t let him kill you,” Elijah said as he reached up, threading his fingers through the demon’s long, soft hair. He stood up on his toes to kiss his neck and chin. “Or I’ll just have to stay here with Rax--”

“Oh, _fuck that,_ ” he growled as he scooped Elijah up against him, kissing him furiously.

…

Amon knew what he was planning to do was a stupid, and he obsessively mulled over it as he stood in front of a massive, ancient bronze mirror, holding a crystal in his hand and watching as the tinted glass shivered like water.

Neither could teleport, so the only way in and out of the cabin was by a magic crystal that turned mirrors into doorways. Right now, Amon was supposed to be thinking of the Olympian Meadows, but what came into view instead was Elijah’s apartment in Ironwood City.

Amon’s tail swayed slowly behind him. He could send Elijah home. He could send him back to the apartment, contact his friends to protect him, and then go to the Olympian Meadows himself and… And do what exactly? Amon had never seen the warlord Skoll in his prime, when he commanded legions from hell on his quest to ‘end the world.’ But he had heard the stories, he had heard the bards sing about it, for a while there was no pub in all the worlds that hadn’t been filled with chatter about the warlord. And of course, he had felt the shift in the natural energy when the pegasus were dying. The Tree of Life had three major pillars that maintained the natural flow of magic. Of the three pillars, the pegasus were the weakest, and if they were wiped out the power would shift and the other two pillars would become vulnerable. The end wouldn’t come immediately, but it would be swift. 

Who the fuck wants to end all of existence anyway? Conquer worlds, sure, but fucking destroy everything?

Amon’s tail lashed. At one time he didn’t care what happened. If all of existence went up in fire and smoke and stardust, he didn’t care; when he was burning in hell for his sins he didn’t care, but now?

He turned around when he heard soft footsteps behind him. When he lowered his hand the mirror solidified, the image of the apartment gone. He focused on Elijah, his delicate, impossible, absolutely beautiful halfling mate. The Valkyrie cocked his head, staring at him eyes so blue and bright they cut through his soul. He inhaled sharply.

“Are you ready?” Elijah asked nervously as he gripped the straps of the bag on his back. He was dressed in jeans and hiking boots, with a long-sleeved shirt and light, leather armor over the top. At his hip was the short-sword, that he wasn’t even sure how to use, but he didn’t want to be completely helpless, should his lightning fail or overwhelm him.

His hands and arms were again bandaged; he had ripped open all his wounds during the nightmare. 

_Protect. Protect mate._ Amon’s demon instincts flared up and he straightened. He wanted to say no, he wanted to change his mind! This was fucking stupid and they could very well die (or worse.) But if he wanted Elijah safe… then there was no going back now.

“You’re sure you know where they are?” he asked as he adjusted his weapons and grabbed the extra bag, filled with food rations and medical supplies.

“I have an idea,” Elijah stressed. “But I don’t think I’ll be walking us straight to them.”

Amon nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. He needed to calm his heart, he needed to steady his nerves. What he really wanted was to drown himself in demon grog, but he had to be sharp and alert in order to to keep his mate safe.

“All right.” He lifted the crystal again, and the mirror rippled. Before them a green meadow appeared. _At least it’s not on fire,_ Amon sighed. He reached for Elijah’s hand. “Are you ready?”

“I’m terrified,” Elijah confessed as he took Amon’s hand and squeezed it. Then together they were stepping through the mirror and to the most beautiful place Elijah had ever seen. He blinked in shock, his brain struggling to incorporate the new shades of green and blue that he had never seen before. Trees that looked familiar but were just alien enough that when he looked at them, he felt both enthralled and uneasy. When he turned around he saw the horizon blocked by a single mountain so large he didn’t even realize that he was looking at a mountain at first, he just thought the sky was grey and white and shrouded with dark clouds. But no, it was a mountain, one that covered the sky and blocked the sun. 

“Is that Mount Olympus?” he asked, breathless.

“Yes,” Amon said with a shrug. “It’s not that impressive.”

“Yeah well, the only other place I’ve been off-Earth looked like Canada so this is—this is very different.” He stepped away from the demon (though he was quick to follow, trailing protectively behind his mate) and drank in the sights.

Hills of green, speckled with white flowers seemed to roll on forever. There were clusters of trees that looked like olive or yew, but they were just different enough that he knew they weren’t. He stood beneath one and reached up, plucking a ripe red fruit from it. 

“What is this?” Elijah asked as he turned to the demon.

“It doesn’t have a name, but one bite will banish you to hell,” Amon explained.

Elijah’s eyes widened and he tossed it away, only to whirl around when Amon’s laughter echoed around them. “You asshole,” he snapped.

Still laughing, Amon bent to retrieve the fallen fruit. “It’s just an apple,” he said before taking a bite. “Perfectly safe to eat.”

“Says the demon.”

Amon hummed with smiled. He tossed the core away and snapped his tail. They were standing on a lower hill, but he could see for miles. “So, where do we start?”

Elijah turned in a circle. Along with groups of trees there were clusters of massive rocks, some were cracked open and sparked like giant misshapen geodes. In other places massive crystals the size of cars jutted from the earth, gleaming brightly in the sun He tilted his head back and forth in thought. “They were in a cave… So let’s look for a door?”

Amon motioned for Elijah to go on ahead and followed him. He kept one eye on his mate and the other on the sky, watching the clouds. Wherever Skoll and his armies invaded they were always announced by the warlord’s hounds in the sky. As long as the clouds remained normal, they were safe.

As they walked among ruins and ancient trees, Amon watched Elijah as he did his best to stay on task, but was being constantly distracted. He stopped to take pictures of ancient glyphs carved into large stones that jutted from the land. He ran his hand over exposed crystals and glowing stones that were hidden inside giant rocks that had been cracked open by some great impact. There were grave markers throughout, and Elijah stopped to appreciate each one, humming about history and magic and legends.

If only this was...a vacation. Or a honeymoon. Amon would have to take his mate across the dimensions and show him all the things of legend that he had ever read or dreamed about. He would take him deep into the worlds, to the roots of the Tree that only a few had gazed upon. He would show him a dragon, maybe even spy a unicorn; sing with mermaids and sail across the Black Sea. Amon’s chest tightened with adoration and love, and excitement at the prospect of traveling for fun, and not to kill his enemies.

They walked for hours across meadows that seemed to never-end. A couple of times Elijah had to stop and ask Amon if they were walking in circles, because everything was starting to look the same. When the sun and the muggy warmth started to get to him, Amon suggested they stop and rest under the wide, sheltering branches of a tree.

Elijah sat down, bottle of water clutched between his hands. “I stupidly hoped we would find them right away.”

Amon looked up from the beef jerky he had been eating. “That’s not stupid, Elly.”

He dropped back into the grass and stared up at the tree branches. “Just how big is this place?”

“Hmm,” he thought as he drank his own water. “Think… California.”

Elijah stared at the tree branches, watching as a black and yellow songbird darted from branch to branch, fluffing its feathers and singing. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Don’t lose hope--”

“Do you know how big California is?”

“I saw it on a map once. What’s the problem? We have time.”

 

“Do we? He’s coming, you know he is, that’s why we’re here, right?” As much as Elijah appreciated Amon keeping a cool head here (he was a centuries old demon! He had been in stressful situations before, but Elijah? No.) he was feeling the stress and pressure. His heart pounded and his brow beaded with sweat. He heard the rustle of clothing and then Amon was leaning over him. His black and blue hair was pulled back into a braided mess of a bun, but long tendrils hung down over his shoulders. His black horns gleamed in stray sunlight that broke through the branches of the tree. His golden eyes were soft.

“Elly,” he said gently. “Relax.”

“I’m an anxious person.”

“I know,” he said with a warm smile as he leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on his mate’s neck, over the healing bite mark. Elijah leaned into the touch, a purr in his chest. “We’ll find them. I promise.”

Elijah believed him. He knew that they were here, somewhere. He could feel the magic thrumming through the ground, the trees, the crystal rocks. He ran his hands up the demon’s chest and then his shoulders, sinking his claws through the fabric of his shirt in order to anchor himself to his mate. He pulled him down to kiss him.

The demon purred, tail wagging behind him, as he licked slowly into Elijah’s mouth. Heat sparked and rushed through him, and somewhere lightning struck. He laughed. “Do I turn you on, little mate?”

“You’re an idiot,” Elijah sighed as he jerked him down for another kiss. Kissing Amon made him feel better. It made him feel calm and warm; loved. He wanted to kiss him forever. He wanted to wake every morning with the demon, snuggled against his side, sharing lazy morning kisses before morning breath ruined it. He wanted to spend immortality with the demon and all his friends. 

When he closed his eyes he saw a grassy landscape, little white flowers, and a door. There was a door hidden behind a cluster of giant stones. Beneath the ground was a massive crystal that provided light, and an ancient white oak growing from a pool of water. Elijah heard a soft snort, a whinny; hooves--

He jerked back, dropping back into the grass. “I saw them--” he gasped.

Amon frowned. He had just nestled between his mate’s legs and could smell his sweet arousal. “Where?”

“Behind a door hidden by rocks,” he said as he pushed against the demon’s shoulders so he could sit up.

“Because we haven’t been looking at that all day,” Amon grunted as he sat back while adjusting his cock in his pants.

Elijah stood up, looking around. It was growing later in the day--

No. No it wasn’t, it was cloudy. He tensed as a cold wind blew over the meadows, shaking the branches of the trees. He stepped out and tilted his head up to the sky. The brilliant hues of blue were blocked by building grey, stormy clouds, but he didn’t smell any rain or sense any kind of weather change. He started to shiver as the temperature dropped and dropped and then he saw movement--

“Amon--” he yelped. The demon was behind him immediately, a growl thundering in his chest. “He’s coming--”

Amon grabbed the crystal from his pocket. “We’re leaving.”

“We can’t!” Elijah yelped as he whirled around. The wind picked up and he had to shout over it. “We need to find them!”

“If Skoll catches us here, we won’t--”

“We came here to find them,” Elijah insisted. “We both knew that this was probably the wrong idea--that it could kill us but-but if we leave now? He _will_ win!” Elijah grabbed his bag and then seized Amon’s heavy wrist. “Come on!”

With a grunt Amon went with his mate. They ran through the heavy hills, speckled with more trees and rocks and rocky outcrops. Above them the clouds thickened and the shadows grew, snaking over the land and spreading frost that ran up Amon’s spine like cold, dead fingers. 

Elijah lead them into a thicket of pine trees where they were at least more sheltered. He was shaking, his heart was pounding, and he almost asked Amon to get them out of there. Lightning streaked the sky and thunder rumbled, making the ground shake. He closed his eyes, trying to reign in his fear--

“Elly,” Amon insisted gently as he dropped to his knees. “Elly, you have to stop this.”

“Stop what?” he asked, staring at him with bright, silver eyes. “I’m not doing anything!”

“The lightning is yours, sweetling,” Amon explained. “You have to control it.”

Elijah blinked a tear from his eye before he nodded. He wrapped his arms around the demon and pressed his face into his neck, inhaling deeply. He let his alpha’s scent wash into him, through him, soaking into his pores and his lungs. He leaned on him, circled by the storm demon’s heavy arms. Elijah let his body relax, surrounded by warmth and strength. His mate’s strength was also his. Around him the lightning stopped and the ground stilled, even as the clouds built.

“I can’t hear anything,” he whispered, his lips against Amon’s neck.

“He has no army,” Amon said quietly, daring not to speak loudly. It was their only hope. Skoll alone would be nearly impossible to take on, but him and his army? They’d be dead by sniper’s arrow before they even know what was happening. If they could stay ahead of him, they had a chance.

Elijah leaned back, hands braced in Amon’s shoulders. He studied his features; his strong nose and jaw, sharp cheekbones and wonderful lips that hid dangerous fangs. He touched the storm demon’s cheek and pushed a lock of stray hair back behind his ear.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Amon’s heart clenched and swelled. “We have to keep moving. Did you see anything new?”

He sighed. “Just green hills, rocks, and trees.”

They stayed hidden as much as they could. The birds had stopped singing and a cold had settled over the meadows, along with heavy clouds that swirled overhead like an watchful eye. But so far no hounds, no footsteps shaking the earth, just cold and silence. 

Elijah shivered. He unwrapped a chocolate oatmeal bar and shared it with Amon as they picked their way through a dense patch of trees. It was warmer here, and Elijah wondered if they had left the danger behind for now.

He stopped and looked around. The trees here had been carved up with a knife; alien words and symbols he didn’t understand.

“Can you read this?” he asked as he kept his voice quiet.

The demon grunted. “No. It’s very, very old.”

“Older than the slaughter of the Pegasus?” he asked. He had been trying to piece the timeline together, but so many wars had taken place over so many different hell-planes and dimensions and not all followed the same construct of time.

“Looks like,” the demon said as he touched the bark of the ancient tree. “These trees are older than me. For all we know this is message between travellers or between lovers wanting to fuck each other.”

“Romantic,” Elijah murmured as he turned away. He spied sunlight ahead and picked his way quickly around trees and brambles until he was stepping out into the light. When he looked back he saw the clouds were still over the area they had been; swirling and mounting up higher and higher.

“Are there gods on the mountain?” he asked Amon.

“Some,” he said. “But they won’t help us.”

“Didn’t expect them to,” Elijah admitted. “I was just curio..us… Hey. Look at that.”

Ears twitching Amon turned to what had caught his mate’s attention. There was a pile of broken boulders nestled at the meeting of three slopes. The grass there was brighter than the rest, and the flowers taller. He could see shards of crystal sticking out of the grass, filtering and reflecting sunlight. Casting rainbows. When he closed his eyes he could feel the thrum of heavy magic, he could hear it humming in his ears, beckoning him closer…

When he opened his eyes Elijah was already running across the grass. With a hiss he bolted after him. “Careful! There may be traps!”

“Traps leave corpses,” Elijah panted as he stepped among the broken rocks, which were at their peak around thirty feet fall. “Corpses leave hints. No, it’s okay. Mia would have told me otherwise.”

Amon pulled his sword anyway, protecting his mate as they walked through heavily fragranced flowers. Elijah carefully picked his way around the massive rocks before he slipped between them. He could feel something pulling at him, like gentle hands on his arms. He had to squeeze behind a rock, but when he did, he found a door.

“Amon! I found it!” He called out.

No answer.

“Amon?” he repeated worriedly. He leaned his hand on the wooden door, carved with symbols and elegant script. When he leaned his weight on it, meaning to squeeze out to find his mate, the door opened and he fell in with a yelp.

…

Amon’s tail lashed as he watched Elijah walk between massive rocks before slipping into a space that Amon could never fit through. Losing sight of his mate made his own anxiety spike and a growl rumble in his chest. He was stomping towards the area, calculating the impossible odds of moving the rocks himself, when he felt it.

He wasn’t alone.

Dropping their bags he gripped his longsword and turned around, looking up the steep slope they had just walked down. He could see nothing but blue skies and sunlight. But it was silent, the air was still. Lashing his tail he headed up the hill. 

When he stepped over the crest and onto flat land he stopped. Not feet away was a hulking figure. Ten feet tall, but not as bulky as Amon would have expected. He could tell by the way the warlord’s golden armor fit him that it wasn’t as snug as it should be. But the demon had gone through a massive defeat, lost his armies, and been hidden in exile. Amon knew from experience that recovery took time.

But that didn’t mean the warlord wasn’t a massive threat, that he hadn’t already slaughtered dozens and had been spreading terror. 

Skoll’s skin was a mottled, ugly grey under the heavy armor. His helmost covered the top portion of his face, but his onyx eyes glowed fiercely through the slot. In one hand he held a massive warhammer, worn from centuries of use, and sa his hip was an unusually small sword.

No, it wasn’t small, it was a Valkyrie longsword.

Amon tightened his grip and without looking back, stalked towards the warlord. He had to keep Elijah safe, that was all that mattered.

And right now he really regretted not telling the Fury where they were. He could use someone at his back right now. He’d even take Rax; at least he could shove the other demon at the warlord as a distraction!

The warlord’s lips curled into a hideous grin. He cocked his head and stepped forward, swinging the hammer. “I don’t know you,” the warlord rumbled. “Are you here to join my army?”

Amon’s brow furrowed. Wait, he could use this. “I was thinking about it,” he said as he circle the monster, but stayed out of reach of the hammer. He made a show of looking around. “Your army is looking rather scarce. I expected more from the mighty Skoll.”

“Do you mock me, little one?”

The threat behind the words was clear. Amon flicked his tail. “I only say what I see. How do you plan on toppling that god forsaken tree without any power?”

“Power,” the warlord mocked. He moved fast, faster than Amon would have thought possible, and swing the hammer and brought it down into the ground. The impact send out a wave that knocked Amon onto his back, forced the breath from his lungs, and toppled small trees. The ground at the warlord’s feet was broken and dust blocked out the sun and sky. The warlord stepped over a crack in the ground.

“You’ll see I am not without power.”

_No fucking shit!_ Amon pushed to his feet, not daring to steal a glance back behind him. He brushed the dirt off his jeans. “Not bad,” he said easily. “I bet it that would have leveled the entire hill back in your prime.”

Obsidian eyes glowed furiously. When the warlord started to approach him, Amon backed up, leading him away from the cave Elijah was in. But then Skoll stopped, and he smiled, and it was terrifying.

“I can smell him on you,” the warlord rumbled.

Amon felt as though he had been dropped in acid. He swallowed hard. “Who?”

“The welp of that Valkyrie whore,” he said with a sneer. He swung the hammer as he approached the other demon. “Don’t think you can fool me. You’re scents are mingled, your hearts aligned. How wonderful for you to have delivered him to me.”

Amon’s skin darkened and his muscles bulged. “You’ll never fucking touch him!”

The warlord’s smile grew wicked. “For you, he will help me topple the Tree.”

…

When Elijah picked himself up off the ground he had a bloody lip, a scraped up palm and arm, and was wet from the puddle he had landed it. Trying to shake off pebbles and water, he looked up the darkened slope he had very ungracefully tumbled down, before turning around.

It was too dark to see so he pulled out his cell phone to use the flashlight.

As predicted he was in a cave. The ground was stone, covered in moss and puddles. The walls had been carved out smooth, and were covered in moss as well. He could hear the steady drip of water, and the echo of his breaths. When he tried to tip-toe forward it echoed, announcing to whatever was here, that he was coming.

“Shit,” he whispered, only to have that echo as well.

Snapping his mouth shut he started to walk, trying to step on moss to silent his steps, and ventured further and further into the cave. It wasn’t dark everywhere, in some places crystals had been shoved through the earth and filtered in sunlight. In those spots plantlife grew; even a small tree with little yellow berries.

He looked up at the crystals, shading his eyes from the bright light beaming down through them, when the ground suddenly shook and Elijah found himself on his knees. He covered his head as rocks fell around him and screams filled the air.

When the shaking stopped, Elijah sat up and shook the dust from his hair. The ground next to him was split open in a two-foot gap. He slowly stood and backed away from it.

He looked down the tunnel, and now he recognizes it from his dream. Putting his phone away he instead grabbed his shortsword. But unlike the dream, it doesn’t spark with lightning. He still felt safer with it in his hand. 

He looked back. Should he find Amon? Or keep going? He felt an urgency pressing against his ribs and he chewed his bloody lip with a fang. 

“Keep going, Elijah,” he whispered to himself. He continued down the tunnel, which grew more and more familiar. And also, warmer. The sound of dripping water turned to the sound of running water. He could hear movement, and he could smell something lush and earthy, with a light scent of rain and sunlight.

When he first saw them he almost dropped the sword. He stood frozen at the entrance of the cavern. The ceiling was a high dome, with a crystal in the center that filtered down beams of soft sunlight. There was a large pool of still, clear water, and in the center a old naked white oak, with branches stretching up to the top of the cavern. There was grass and heavy mosses growing on overhangs and bulging rocks. But none of that caught his attention.

Staring at him were nearly two dozen Pegasus. Elijah could only stare back at them, eyes huge and mouth parted in surprise. They were all lean, a little too thin, with white wings folded against their sides. Large, intelligent, eyes stared into him. Each equine was white, with long messy manes and tails that swatted nervously. Several made a sound, little snorts and nervous neighs. Then, from the back, was an angry bray and the group parted as a large stallion charged.

Elijah dropped his sword and scrambled back to avoid a fury of hooves, teeth and massive wings. He fell back and covered his head, yelling as hooves stomped around him.

“Stop! Stop, please!” he pleaded. “I’m here to help! I’m-I’m a friend!”

Hooves stomped around him and teeth snapped at his hair. He rolled over to shove at the stallion’s muzzle. “I swear!” he cried out. “I swear by my mother, Mia! I’m here to help.”

Nervous sounds echoed from the other equines. When the ground shook again, they fluffed their feathers and scattered, disappearing down dark tunnels. The stallion let out an angry trumpet and again bit at him.

Elijah shifted onto his knees and prostrated. “Please,” he begged, “Please believe me.”

He flinched when hooves stomped around him, but after a minute, it was quiet. He raised his head slowly, looking up at the stallion standing before him.

He was larger than the others, but no less worn and thin. His coat wasn’t as white as Elijah originally thought, it was off-colored and dirty. His mane was a tangled, knotted mess. The stallion’s hooves were worn from years on stone and his wings looked unkempt and weak.

“You know I’m telling the truth,” Elijah said, keeping his voice soft and gentle. He reached out with his hand, shaking as he approached the large equine, larger than any horse he had seen. It reached out to sniff his hand before allowing Elijah to gently pet his muzzle. Elijah ran his hand up the stallion’s forehead, a tearful smile on his face as the pegasus leaned into the touch, whickering quietly.

The ground shook again and the wall cracked. The stallion lurched away, shrieking and flapping his wings; the force of the wind nearly landed Elijah on his back again.

Another rumble. Another crack.

Elijah grabbed his phone and quickly snapped a couple pictures of the stallion and the cave and sent them to every Otherkin in his address book, along with his location at the Olympian Meadows.

“My friends are coming,” he explained as he put the phone away. “I-I have to go out there and help my mate. Skoll is… he’s here. I should stay with you, but Amon needs me.” He felt sick and anxious, and it wasn’t because of the warlord. Something was wrong with Amon.

“Stay here and help will come,” he promised before he turned and ran back up the tunnel.

…

Amon’s knees hit the dirt and he didn’t try to move or get up. He wanted to, but his body was refusing to listen. He wheezed, blood dripping down his lips and chin, joining the spuddles of it already on the ground. His head throbbed like a drum from a broken horn, and he couldn’t breathe through his broken nose.

Everything hurt, fucking _everything,_ and Skoll hadn’t even broken a sweat. The warlord’s chuckle echoed around him, and he could hear footsteps approaching from behind.

“That all you got?” Amon wheezed. “You could at least put some effort into it.”

Laughter, deep and sadistic. “I like you, Storm Demon. Had you not been so foolish as to cross me, you would have made a good warrior. As it is, however, Fate has steered you wrong. You will leave those world with nothing, and no one will remember you.”

“Why?” he gasped, needing to give himself time until the next blow. “Why...why do all this?”

The warlord hummed. “Because I’ve conquered every world at some point in history. The thrill is gone. So, what’s the saying? Go big or go home?”

_He’s completely insane—_

The impact of the hammer against his back made him scream as he hit the ground, inhaling dirt and bloody mud. He gasp, spraying pink foam from his lungs. Desperation won over pride and be reached with his hands, digging his claws into the dirt in an attempt to drag himself away from the looming threat just behind him. 

“Pathetic,” Skoll sighed, almost sadly. “I’m willing to spare you, Storm Demon, just long enough so you may watch as the Mother Tree dies, and the universe collapses. It will be magnificent! But you must tell me where your Valkyrie whore is.”

“He’s not a whore,” Amon snarled as blood sprayed from his mouth. “He’s _mine.”_

The warlord laughed. “Yours? The first Storm Demon to ever have a fated mate and it’s with a weak, pathetic male Valkyrie? What are the odds. Incalculable! If I had more time I would take my time and dissect the both of you. See what makes you tick, why Fate would be so cruel.”

Amon growled. “It wasn’t cruel.”

The warlord kicked the fallen demon onto his back, tearing a high pitched sob from him as he did. He stood over the demon. “Are you trying to stall me, little one? I’ll find your mate sooner or later.”

Above them the clouds were massing and foaming, white bolts of lightning dancing from cloud to cloud. Amon felt his heart tighten and he released a harsh, desperate breath that was supposed to be a laugh. “Sooner,” he gagged just as the world went white.

…

Elijah circled the long way around, needing distance put between him and the cave before he went to find Amon. But when he did, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

His mate, a world renowned killer and yes, murderer, was on the ground, in mud and blood, foaming pink from the mouth and absolutely broken. His skin was pale and covered in blood. His left horn was _broken._ He was _broken._

Standing over him was Skoll, the warlord, and he was as impressive as Elijah could have imagined. His warhammer was covered in Amon’s blood. Anger hit Elijah, blinding him, shutting out the cold around him and the hammering of his heart. All he could see was the warlord’s hand clutching a weapon that was being used to blugen his mate.

Elijah snarled, pulling his lips back to show his fangs, and his eyes burned white. Energy surged through him, hot and bright and painful; his hands and arms split back open, blood soaked through the bandages and dripped into the grass. He ignored the pain, the smell of blood, and the way his heart was beating. He threw everything into what he saw before him, and the world exploded.

When the air cleared and the buzzing in his ears stopped, Elijah’s eyes sweeped the chaos in front of him. Trees were burning, the ground was charred and blown apart like someone had dropped a bomb on it (which, he kind of had.) The warhammer was lying in the dirt, broken, and next to it was Amon. 

Elijah ran across the open area and dropped down next to his mate. Amon’s clothing had been burned away by the force of the lightning, but he hadn’t been hurt--not anymore than what the warlord had done to him. Tears blurred his vision and he reached out with bloody, shaking hands, and cupped his mate’s face.

“Amon?” he sobbed. “Amon? Can you hear me?”

“That was quite the blow, child, I’m impressed.”

Fear rushed through and his stomach dropped. Elijah started to stand when a massive hand grabbed him by the back of his neck and easily lifted him off the ground. Elijah felt like a kitten in the grip of a tiger. He was lifted high off the ground, feet kicking, as the warlord lifted him to eye-level.

The warlord’s skin was burned and charred, his helmet melted to his head, and there was blood running down his neck and had splattered onto his armor. The warlord sneered. “Look what you did to me.”

Elijah reached back, bloody hands trying to pry the large fingers off his neck. “Let me go--”

“Where are the pegasus?” he asked, his voice far to calm, but the threat was there. 

When Elijah didn’t answer the warlord tossed him to the ground and kicked him. Elijah didn’t even yelp, the breath was knocked from his lungs and he hit the ground with a whimper. He rolled over, trying to scoot away from the warlord as he stomped toward him.

“Where are the pegasus?” Skoll repeated.

Again he did not answer, and this time the warlord grabbed his arm and jerked him off his feet. “You’re mortal, child,” he reminded him. “Anything I do to you will be permanent.”

“You’re going to end the fucking world,” Elijah whimpered as the warlord squeezed. “What’s the worst you can do?”

The warlord grinned, amused. “Your bravery is misplaced,” he said as he squeezed. “The sound of bones breaking is like music.”

Elijah sobbed in pain. “Stop!”

“Where are the pegasus?” he demanded.

He didn’t answer and was thrown into the dirt. The warlord then pulled his sword. He circled the prone halfling, showing off the sword as he did. “Do you recognize this?” Skoll asked.

Elijah scooted back slowly, broken wrist cradled to his chest. “No.”

“It was your mother’s,” Skoll said with a grin. “She tried to kill me with it. So I took off her head--”

“No!” Elijah screamed and reached out with his power, sending a bolt of lightning down onto the warlord and throwing him back into a burning pile of trees. Elijah jumped to his feet, knowing he needed to run away, but the pegasus were still back behind him somewhere, hidden and safe and Amon…

He looked back toward his demon, but he hadn’t moved.

_He’s not dead. He’s not, he still has his head…_ Elijah stopped when his foot kicked something hard and heavy, and when he looked down he saw that it was his mother’s sword. Heart pounding painfully, he leaned down and picked up the weapon. Using both hands proved to be painful and had him struggling to breath around sobs. 

“Going to kill me, child?” the warlord asked from where he knelt. More of his armor was melted and parts of it had bent inward and impaled into him. Blood pooled around him. “You pack the punch, but it’s not enough. You know this. Tell me where the pegasus are, and I’ll leave you here with your mate, and you can die together quietly.”

“We aren’t going to die,” he hissed while showing his fangs. “You killed my mother--but you won’t kill me!”

Legs aching, muscles burning, breaths heaving, he ran at the warlord. Skoll laughed and didn’t even try to block the blow, knowing that the small halfling didn’t have the power to hurt him. Elijah jumped and swung the sword, sinking it into Skoll’s thick neck. The warlord lurched forward with Elijah standing over him, hands gripping the sword that was sank just less than halfway through, stopped by bones and muscle.

“Did you think that would work?” the warlord asked with a laugh. “You did better than I thought.”

“I’m not done yet,” Elijah whispered, voice weak. His eyes flashed white and his body shook. The rips in his skin spread, blood seeping through his clothing. The cracks glowed brighter and brighter, and when Skoll looked up, all he saw was another bright flash of light--


	17. Ashes to the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, for the comments and kudos, I love you all xoxo

“ELIJAH!!” Frankie screamed as she and a dozen Furie warriors ran towards the smoke billowing up over the horizon. She could see that an entire hillside was burning and above them lightning was dancing furiously from cloud to cloud. She pulled her sword, ready for whatever they came up against, but it was the portal opening next to her that had to group stopping.

Twenty Valkyrie warriors came charging through. Most were in light leather armor and chainmail, carrying bows and swords; several were on light stepping horses with armor on their chests. One particularly beefy female carried a warhammer and axe across her back. Frankie scowled and glanced between the horizon and the new warriors. She did not have time for this shit!

“What are you doing here, Valkyrie?” she called.

A female stepped forward. She was dressed in finer armor than the rest, with a crest on her breastplate and was wearing a short blue cloak. She carried a polearm in one hand and her phone in the other. Frankie frowned at her when the Valkyrie held up the phone, showing her the same text she had received.

“You got the same message?” Frankie asked, bewildered.

“Yup,” Bree said as she shoved her phone into her pocket. She looked up at the burning hillside and gripped her weapon harder. “Is Skoll actually on the other side of that hill?”

“Elijah wouldn’t lie to me--what I can’t figure out is why _you_ got the message--”

“We all did,” Reuben interrupted as he suddenly appeared between them. “Halt this aggression between each other and focus on the issues at hand.” He looked up as lightning streamed the sky. He knew it was Elijah’s. The halfling was in danger and it made his heart tighten in his chest. He spread his black wings, flapping them to get everyone’s attention. 

Frankie glared at the fallen angel, but the look of concern in his dark eyes told her just how afraid he was. So she backed down. “What’s your plan?” she asked as lightning struck off in the distance. 

“We need to find the pegasus,” one of the Valkyrie spoke up. “If that is Skoll, then that is his only agenda and we must stop him!”

“I need to find Elly,” Frankie said as she turned back to the rising smoke and fire. “I… I’m going. The rest of you do whatever you need to do to find the animals and keep them safe! Misha, you’re in charge!”

Frankie could hear the Furies behind her yelling, but she didn’t care. She ran until her lungs were burning and her heart was pumping. A dark shadow flew above her and she didn’t need to look up to know it was Reuben. As she got closer and closer she was overcome with smoke and ash, and she could hear a rumbling voice. She couldn’t make out the words, but she _knew_ that voice, taunting and horrible; only cruelty and the promise of pain.

Ahead of her was a sudden explosion, and it blew her back through the air and the Fallen from the sky. Frankie hit the ground with a gasp, rolling through grass until she stopped beneath a tree. Frankie lay in a ball, hands over her ears which her ringing. When she raised her head all she could see was smoke. The ground was leveled, trees cleared--it was like someone had dropped a giant fucking bomb.

A bomb strong enough to kill an immortal or… a mortal...

With a cry she pushed to her feet, stumbling, and ran up the hill through the fire. Frankie found her sword and picked it up as she climbed. At the crest the ground was burned away, the trees flattened, and—

She tripped when her foot hit something hard and hot. She jumped back, sword at the ready, before seeing that it was a severed head.

A head in a very familiar (although melted) helmet.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Frankie whispered as she stepped carefully around the head. She looked around for a body, and saw it burning in a heap nearby.

Elijah had done the seemingly impossible—

_Elijah! Honey, where are you?_ She sheathed her weapon and started to run again, just as Reuben dropped down from the sky in front of her. The angel flared his wings and dropped to his knees, and Frankie felt fear grip her heart. She stepped around Skoll’s charred body, around the remains of an ancient sword, and saw...

“No!” she sobbed as she fell down next to Reuben, who was hovering over Elijah. The halfling was naked, his clothing burned away by the blast. He was lying on his side, his hands bloody and burned down to the bone. His skin was covered in gaping wounds in the shape of lightning streaks. Blood was… everywhere. All over Elijah, stained in the grass, leaking from huge wounds. Frankie’s hands shook and hovered him. _Goddess, no, he’s dead… please no…_

“We have to heal him!” she sobbed loudly. “Reuben— is there a way? You’re an angel, for fuck’s sake!”

The fallen angel shook his head. “I don’t have that power, Frankie, you know that. He was only mortal--”

“ _NO!_ ” she snarled. No, she had not looked over him for so long to lose him this way! She would take Skoll back if it meant keeping Elijah alive. Let the pegasus die, let the Tree wilt, let it all fucking end, as long as she had her best friend with her for the last moments. Tears blurring her eyes, heart hammering, she lurched to her feet looking for anything that could help her. “Where the fuck is Amon? Why isn’t he here?!”

“He’s over there,” Reuben said, pointing with his wing. “He’s in bad shape, too. Maybe you should check on him--”

“Fuck him!” she snapped when she saw where he lie, bloody and burned. She turned her back to him, eyes scanning the hills. She saw that the groups of Furie and Valkyrie had, working together, located the pegasus and were moving giant stones from a hidden door. She cupped her hands and yelled, “I need a healer!!” 

She recognized the Valkyrie from moments ago, the one with the brightly colored hair and pretty face. “What is it?”

“It’s Elijah—“ and she choked on those words, tears in her eyes. “I need help!”

One of the Furies stepped out of the cave, leading with him two white mares. “There’s a sacred pool here,” he called.

Frankie whirled to grab the halfling, but someone else was already there. Amon, as bloody and broken as his mate, stood over Elijah with pain and fury on his face. Reuben had stepped away, and stretched out a wing to make sure that Frankie didn’t try to get between the two. Shaking, the large demon knelt down and gathered his mate to his chest. He let out a sobbing roar.

“Amon—“ she tried to reach out to him, only to lurch back. Amon’s eyes were black and wide, fevered with pain and a broken heart. He bared his massive fangs and displayed his horns in a threat. Message received, Frankie stepped back. 

Amon continued to snarl, his tail lashing, as he pressed his face into Elijah’s damp, curly hair. He kissed the claim-bite, but received no reaction. He tried to smooth the blood out of Elijah’s face, but all he did was add his own. He nuzzled at his mate’s skin, but it was cold. He was cold. He was quiet. He was… He was...

“Godsdammit,” he gasped as he threatened to drop to his knees. “You can’t do this to me, _please Elly._ ”

Over the pounding of his heart he heard the Furie shouting at him, despite Reuben’s attempts to keep her out of the demon’s dangerous reach. “ _Amon!_ There’s a sacred pool in the cavern. If you hurry—“

Amon didn’t think anything could help at this point, his mate was dead in his arms, he could feel the connection between them withering away…

...withering, but not gone. With a snarl he stumbled down the hill, stepping through fire and charred earth, his legs wobbling like jelly. He stormed past warriors and ignored the pegasus as they stretched their wings in the sunlight. He shoved past anyone who dare not move out of the way fast enough.

Deep in the heart of the empty cavern was a large, clear pool, and at the center what looked like a white oak. But Amon knew it wasn’t an oak, it was a small portion of the Life Tree, a connection between this world and the next. He looked down at Elijah’s pale, bloody face as he stopped near the pool’s edge.

His mate had never looked so small and fragile. Not even when the phantasm had been eating him alive from the inside. Tears rushed down Amon’s face as he stumbled into the warm water. Blood washed from his body as he walked deeper and deeper, until it was at his chest. The water was warm, humming with power, vibrating through his entire body. He lowered Elijah into the water, trying to wash the blood away, but it just continued to run.

The powers of the sacred pools were vague. Sometimes they healed, other times they didn’t. There were stories of the waters granting eternal life, other times it took life away. It was clean and pure, pulsing with the life of the universe, and had a soft glow to it. 

“Please,” Amon begged. “Give him back to me. He saved this entire fucking universe, the least you can do is give him back.”

The water was starting to stain with blood. Amon cradled Elijah with one hand, and used the other to wash the blood from his hair and face. Everytime he cleaned away blood he found a new injury. He didn’t even want to look at Elijah’s hands and arms. He lowered him into the water, letting it cover his face.

He had seen it, the impact. Elijah’s lightning had always passed through him without actually harming him, but this impact had nearly blinded him and had blown him across the ground. He’s screamed just before, begging Elijah to stop, but it was too late. The lightning had struck, the impact erupting across the ground, and moving through Elijah to the sword and burning the warlord’s head off. He wished he could be proud, his mate had done something absolutely impossible and amazing but if it cost him Elijah…

He would rather see the world end than lose his mate.

“Please,” he whispered, voice trembling. The water didn’t seem to move or come from anywhere, but the blood was gone and the water crystal and clear away. A low hum filled the cavern, echoing off the walls. He looked up at the tree, which was white and etched in silver. Amon’s chest tightened as unbelievable pain ripped through him. When Elijah remained pale and still, he threw his head back and bellowed, the sound shaking the cavern and the branches of the tree.

Something grabbed his forearm, claws sinking into his skin and startling him. Amon looked down just as Elijah lurched up out of the water, spitting up water and struggling to breath. 

Amon couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The wounds were washing away. His hands had healed and the bruises were gone. Elijah was alive and in his arms.

Elijah couldn’t stop shaking and he couldn’t hear anything. He blinked rapidly, eyesight slowly returning. He was cold, but every touch to his skin made him flinch. When he could breath without spitting up water or gagging, he started to relax. He felt large hands holding him against a wide, warm chest. When he took a deep breath through his nose he could smell his mate--heavy, comforting pheromones filled his sense. He closed his eyes and let his head fall forward. His heart slowed to a steady beat and he whined softly.

“Wh-What happened?” he asked in a rough, shaken voice.

Amon exhaled the breath he had been holding. For the second time in their short time together Elijah had beaten death. He dropped his head, burying his face in his mate’s neck. He didn’t try to stop the sobs as they racked him and he let the water keep him steady as he hugged the halfling against his chest. Gentle fingers started to comb through his hair and a soft voice whispered in his ear.

“I thought I was supposed to be comforting you?” the demon whispered hoarsely.

“Maybe I want to do this,” Elijah whispered back. Tears ran down his face as he nestled his face into Amon’s neck. He inhaled deep, letting warmth wash over him.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Amon said, voice muffled against Elijah. 

“I thought I was gone too…” he murmured. In fact, he was sure he had been. But something had been tethered to him, a lifeline connected all the way back to Amon. When Elijah felt a pull against it, he had made the decision to go back.

He knew what had awaited him, or he had… the memory was drifting away. He had felt peace; peace and acceptance and warmth. It had been so tempting to go into the light. He had heard his mother calling out to him, but she hadn’t been encouraging him to come closer…

She had told him to go back. She told him to _live._

When Elijah closed his eyes he saw his mother standing in the water in a white dress and shining armor. There was a proud smile on her face, tears shining in her eyes. She blew him a kiss and Elijah felt her leave him. When she disappeared he felt like a bandaid was being ripped out of him, a piece of her that had been guiding him this entire time. The shock was brief, but it wasn’t the physical pain that had him crying. He muffled a sob against Amon, who was suddenly alert and standing up straight with a growl vibrating in his chest.

“What hurts?” Amon asked as his tail lashed in the water.

“My mother,” he explained shakily. “She’s gone.”

Amon frowned as realization spread over him. He kissed the top of Elijah’s head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said as the pain left him, and he felt… alive. He leaned back, wrapping his legs around his mate and looked up at him. Amon hadn’t healed like he had; his skin was still bruised and bloody, his horn broken. “We need to get you some medical attention.”

“You’re all I need, sweetling,” Amon rumbled. “With you, I can recover from anything.”

…

“You can’t be _serious_ ,” Elijah argued in disbelief.

Rax’s lips twitched into a smile. He again offered Elijah a silver key on a chain. “Take it, Elly.”

“But this is your home!” Elijah said.

Rax shook his head. “One of many. Come on, take the key. I already moved my stuff out. Besides, it’s the least I can do considering I didn’t see your text.” Guilt burned inside him and he shift uncomfortably. “Come on, take it.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Elijah said. “You were in a swamp, hunting a demon. I wouldn’t have expected you to have your phone on when you’re working. Besides, it all worked out in the end.”

“Take the damn key.”

Elijah sighed and held up his hand. “Just don’t forget to come by,” he insisted. “You’re always welcome.”

“The hell he is,” Amon grunted as he walked into the den. Rax has left almost all the furniture and appliances, but the weapons and treasurers were all gone.

Rax smirked at the other demon. Amon was nearly completely healed after his fight with Skoll and being caught in the blast that had killed the warlord. The only thing still visibly injured was his horn, but Rax suspected that lots of soft kisses from Elijah was easing the pain. 

He frowned for a second as pain tightened in his chest. “I should get going,” Rax said as he tucked the ache away and gave them a earnest smile. “I have to meet a goblin about a job.”

“Be safe,” Elijah said as blue fire rushed over the demon.

After Rax traced away, Elijah turned to Amon. The demon was wearing sweatpants and no shirt. Elijah had just rebraided all his hair this morning while they shared a relaxing bath (with glitter bath bombs to Amon’s chagrin.) The Storm Demon was looking like himself again; his skin warm and richly grey and blue, with heavy black tattoos painted across his chest and arm. His tail flicked like a curious cat.

“Thinking about how hot I am?”

Elijah felt his cheeks heat. “Nope.”

“You lie, sweetling,” the demon said with a smug smirk. “I make you wet.”

“So does water—“ his laughter turned into a shriek when Amon lunged at him. He ducked around his large mate and ran through the house, their footsteps echoing loudly through the halls. He slid on a rug, ducked around the demon again, and jumped over the sofa.

Amon caught him in the kitchen and kissed him hard while dropping him onto the kitchen counter. He was attempting to shove his hand down the front of Elijah’s pants when the halfling laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Amon asked with a grunt. When Elijah pointed over his shoulder he turned around, but he already knew what he would see.

Two pegasus stood outside the large kitchen windows. Watching them. Amon rolled his eyes. “How long are they going to be hanging around here?”

“They like me,” Elijah said with a grin.

“You _fed_ them, didn’t you?”

Elijah feigned innocence. “No.”

“The fruit bowl is empty.”

“Rax ate it.”

“Nice try, little mate.”

The two equine had turned away by now, flapping their wings and running off to play in the snow and among ancient trees and mountain peaks.

Elijah, leaning back with his demon mate standing between his legs, shrugged. He slowly pushed down Amon’s pants, just enough for his cock to bounce free. Elijah closed his hands around the impressive length and squeezed. 

“That’s cheating,” Amon moaned as he thrust into his mate’s gentle hands.

Elijah smirked. It had only been three days since the events in the Olympian Meadows. Three days since the pegasus were let back into the world. In that time magic had flared up all over the Otherworlds. A sprite reported seeing a unicorn. The dragon king had risen from his mountain range and caused a hurricane with a flag of his wings. Magical creatures that had hidden from the warlord were now out again. Still very well hidden, but the sightings weren’t just rumors anymore.

Three days since the Furie and Valkyrie clans in Ironwood called a tentative truce so they could work together to keep the pegasus safe. Amon has commented that he had never seen the city so quiet.

Or, to use his exact word, “boring.”

“You did this, Elly,” Amon had praised him last night while worshipping between his legs with long strokes of his tongue. “You made all this possible.”

It seemed a big exaggerated to Elijah, who still couldn’t quite believe that _he_ had killed what was supposed to be an unkillable warlord with an old sword and lightning. He didn’t remember much of it, just the rage and fear at the idea of losing Amon just before he attacked, followed with horrible, burning pain as his lightning burned him inside out.

Frankie has suggested (a bit begrudgingly) to take up Bree’s offer to train him to use his abilities without accidentally killing himself again.

And it was something he absolutely was going to do. As soon as he could. After an extended rest with his mate. Because everything had happened in a little more than a month and it had been a chaotic mess of stress, anxiety, violence, and more anxiety.

Now he wanted to relax and spend time with Amon.

Amon growled possessively as he ripped off Elijah’s pants and shoved him back into the kitchen counter. He looked over him, eyes gleaming obsidian and with passion, as he captured his sweet lips in a rough kiss. He thrust against him, not penetrating yet, just rubbing the head of his cock against his mate’s aching, slick rim.

Elijah’s whine was high and desperate; it called to and encouraged the demon to mount him. “Please,” he panted as his body tumbled with need. “ _Please,_ Amon.”

“I’ll give it to you,” Amon purred as be continued to tease him by sliding just inside… and pulling back out. Elijah whined again and it send shivers up Amon’s spine. “Sweetling, when you moan like that—“

So he did it again, and his song was too tempting for Amon to resist any longer. He mounted him slowly, because his mate was mortal and Amon never wanted to see him bruised or in pain again. 

“You’re so tight— _ah—so good_ ,” he growled.

“I love you,” Elijah moaned throatily. It became a prayer, between whines and moans and sobs, he told the demon how much he loved him, how good he felt, that he wanted more; harder and faster.

When they crested together Amon dug his fingers into the granite countertop, breaking it into pieces. Elijah’s little claws were sank deep into Amon’s sweaty hips, anchoring himself. With sweat dripping off his nose Amon leaned down to nuzzle his mate—

Amon jerked back with a yelp with Elijah bit his neck. He rocked back, but was held in place by the connection of their bodies and his mate’s claws.

Elijah, blood on his lips and fangs, smiled. “If I belong to you, then you belong to me.”

Amon blushed and reached to touch the mate-claim. “You could have warned me,” he said. If anything, he belonged to Elijah more than the halfling would ever belong to him. He felt himself swell with pride.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked with a wicked little grin.

Amon bared his fangs and laughed. They were still connected, and he was still hard. He leaned over, hovering just above Elijah and smiling smugly down at him. He gave a slow, lazy thrust. 

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Elijah moaned. He always felt warm and drunk after Amon came inside of him, and now he felt new heights of pleasure. Amon was thrusting into him again, gliding effortlessly from the combination of seed and slick. Elijah arched off the counter, moans and cries coming in abandon. Amon licked his neck, whispering how beautiful he was.

How much he loved him.

Later, in front of one of many fireplaces, Elijah stretched out his hands to warm them above the flickering flames. He was naked, wrapped up in only a heavy blanket. In his lap was his sketchbook, and the open page was filled with sketches of winged horses.

“Here,” Amon said as he joined him, sitting naked on the floor.

Elijah took the mug of tea from him. Amon was drinking some demon brew that in Elijah’s opinion, tasted awful.

Unless he was kissing it from Amon’s lips.

Elijah took a long sip of herbal tea; it was a gift from Frankie; it was made from flowers Elijah had never heard of. And damn, it was wonderful! But a box of herbal tea wasn’t the only gift Elijah had received in the last couple of days. Gifts from every dimension and hell-plane and clan had shown up. Some were expressions of genuine gratitude, most were gifts attempting to sway Elijah to join their clan or horde or army.

He had no interest in joining anything, but he would take the gifts. Especially now that he had his own empty treasure room and armory.

Other than treats and exotic foods and lots of demon brews and wines, he had received pouches of gold and silver, a genuine (fossilized) dragon egg; cloaks and robes made of furs and rich fabrics. There was a goblet made of gold and encrusted with jewels, diamonds the size of his fist, a necklace made with dragon’s blood rubies (which he had given to Frankie) and lots of rings too big to fit his fingers. There had also been a slew of weapons, which he and Amon had had fun trying out. But the most important thing was his mother’s sword.

It had broken in the final moments against Skoll, but Bree had found it and taken it to Valkyrie swordsmiths and they remade it. Now it hung over the fireplace, flawless and shining, a reminder of everything he had accomplished. And he was going to learn to use it, too. The next time they were in danger (would most definitely come, because while he might be a hero now, he was still an anomaly) he wanted to be able to defend himself. And using his mother’s sword seemed like the perfect weapon to use.

“Elijah, are you happy?”

He looked up from his sketching in surprise. He turned to Amon, who looked unusually vulnerable. “What kind of question is that?” he asked. “Of course I’m happy.”

Amon exhaled. “All this was thrust upon you. I… I pretty much inserted myself into your life without even knowing you. I kidnapped you. You had to live with the phantasm and you never… You never had time to stop and process all this shit and I want to make sure you’re truly happy.”

Elijah’s mouth tightened and tears shined in his eyes. “Oh, my beautiful demon,” he sighed, “I have never been happier in my entire life.”

“You’re sure?” he asked uneasily. “Because if you aren’t, I won’t stop—“

Elijah silenced him with a kiss. He knelt next to him, arms wrapped loosely around the demon’s neck. “Amon,” he purred as he pressed his thumb over the light scar on the demon’s neck, “I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

Amon exhaled, relief rushing through his body. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Elijah smiled sweetly. “Only the universe knows.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That concludes "No Rest for the Wicked!" Thank you everyone who has stuck around and read this entire book. I know most people come here for fanfic, and while I do love write it, I've always preferred my own characters. This will hopefully be the first of many books in my Demons of Ironwood series. You can look forward to reading Rax's story next. It's something I am definitely looking forward to writing! 
> 
> I wanted to advertise that you can follow me on Tumblr @softwolffeathers, and Twitter @wolffeathers83. Feel free to follow me in either place (or both!) and if you have questions about anything I'm working on, feel free to ask me! Also, I kept forgetting to mention that the absolutely ridiculous chapter titles for this book came from various Celtic and folk metal I just happened to be listening to. I have a Spotify playlist, maybe I'll share it on my Tumblr.
> 
> Anyway, I can't thank you all again for every comment and kudo. Honestly, it means so much to me to know that someone is reading and enjoying my original characters. And I hope you'll all be around when I post the next book!


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